I decided I would pick him up, put him in the tent, and sleep on the picnic table, but I was too late. The boy shifted in my lap, and his pajamas tor... slightly, the very tip of my cock entering his ass. I was stuck. If I moved at all I was going to enter him, and I didn’t know what the consequences of that would be. I certainly didn’t want to hurt him, and for crying out loud I think he was asleep. I didn’t know how to move him, and again I paused, lit a cigarette and hoped my boner would. Dave Warden, the head pyrotechnician, came in through the stage door. He saw the band gathered in the corner and headed directly over. Dave was a tall guy, with brownish-gray hair and a scraggly mustache. An unlit cigar stump hung from the corner of his mouth. He was dressed like most of the roadies, in a pair of tattered jeans and a dirty T-shirt. He wore a tool belt around his waist that contained a variety of wire cutters, rolls of wire, and electrical connectors."You guys ready to go live. More

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