[Oh so many mirrors. Oh so many angles. Freddy has the means and the will. It's like those good old fashioned ads that start with sand kicking. Not that the kid was ever a 98lb weakling in the old man's eyes. He licks his lips and works on catching his breath. Salt of sweat spikes on his tongue. Again he finds himself looking Eames on over.
no subject
Thick arms, tight ass. Mercy.]
Roughly.
[His own towel is dabbing off the sweat.]
You don't use it you lose it, you know?