Cars in the street were as likely to be set on fire as used to get anywhere. Nobody went to work. Every day there was a new protest, and every night a...new riot.The walls bore graffiti and hand-stenciled posters instead of advertising. The slogans were written with the exhilarating freedom of a child home sick from school. “Never work”, “boredom is always counter-revolutionary”, “under the paving stones, the beach”. They were against Vietnam, capitalism, against communism, against work, against. His member pulsed and ached as it protruded from his suit, the cold air blowing across it. Arousal muddled his thoughts. This was all they wanted from him, all that they had asked of him. To give in and become one with their pack, to give himself over to them and allow them to bond with him in their base, primal way. He realized that he was breathing heavily, his heart was pounding in his chest, and his legs were trembling.God, he needed this, he needed it so badly. If he was going to give in,. More

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