We held each other for a few moments before heading to the shower.“We don’t do this often enough,” Kelly said. “I love it when we fuck.”“I...do too, but I like taking my time and making love better,” I said as we climbed into the shower.“Me too, but a quickie is better than nothing.”“I’ll try to take care of you more often if you don’t mind a quickie,” I said.“Mind it, shit, I already told you I love it. Honey, you can shove Boomer into Bucky anytime you want to.” Kelly waggled my cock to. But he suddenly realized that love itself and its reckless pursuit had made him suffer more than any absence of it. He had little clue that love was also like its ugly twin, war, and that multitudes died more of love’s twisted ability to carve up a man’s heart than any sharp bayonet that some unreasonable enemy thrusts into another man. But there were other types of love, he figured, and not necessarily the love that demanded the taste of a woman’s lips or the silky feel of her charms in his. More

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