Broken Arm

Hey guys,

Be sure to let me know what you think at stanniestories@gmail.com. And as always, I love it if you consider checking out my Patreon page. Even when you don't want to become a Patron, you will still find content on there.

patreon.com/stanniestories

Broken Arm - Part 1

I'm rushing through the corridors of my school when I hear the loud bell ring. It's the sound of horror; school just started. It's generally a scary sound, since it means the start of at least an hour of boredom, but it's even more frightening when you're not in class yet. And that isn't really uncommon for me.

As I'm walking quickly though the halls - running is not allowed, so I'm a common practitioner of the well-known and ridiculous speedwalking - my mind tries to come up with an excuse for being late while also trying to remember what my first class is, where it is and who the teacher is. Needless to say, I'm a little exhausted when I open the door to the classroom, only to find the teacher isn't there yet. I hastily scan the room, but my eyes haven't betrayed me: the teacher isn't present, so my tardiness goes unnoticed this time. I let out a sigh and make my way to my spot all the way in the back. When I sit down, I realise I'm not the only one late for the party. Evan, my best friend, isn't in here either. His seat is next to mine. Normally he likes being here early, so something must be up. And being the pessimist I am, I automatically assume the worst.

I quickly grab my books from my bag because I want to look like I've been here waiting with the others when the teacher finally enters the room. Only after I'm completely ready for the class to begin, can I give myself time to calm down and look around the room. I'm not the only one doing that; the kids who are not chatting vigorously are trying to lock eyes with other students to ask them whether they know what's going on. No one seems to know.

After a minute, I feel safe enough to take out my phone, although we're actually not allowed to use them in school. I scroll through my recent notifications, looking for a message from Evan, but no luck.

The door opens and almost in a reflex I put my phone away without even locking the screen. The teacher walks in, with Evan right behind him. Immediately everyone's attention is drawn to the two. My best friend is wearing a cast around his right arm and hand. The teacher says something to him quietly, followed by Evan, who is walking toward me with a subtle hint of embarrassment. All our classmates look at him questioningly; their gaze follow him as he walks my way. It's not uncommon for people to break their arms, but Evan is a quiet kid, so I think everyone is having a hard time imagining what happened to him.

I know Evan well enough to know he hates this attention. With his head down, he walks towards me and sits down next to me. "Hey man," I say.

"Hi."

"You know, I'm definitely going to draw on your cast!"

He looks up, seemingly happy I didn't immediately ask him how he got it. I actually may already know what's up. "Sure," he says.

The teacher glances up to warn us. I bet neither of us wants him to call us out now and this may be the first time ever I really wish class would start immediately, to distract the others from looking at us. Fortunately, the teacher was thinking the same thing.

During the lesson I make sure to only talk about ordinary stuff, like gaming and school. I avoid topics like home and family.

When we start talking about this new game I bought, I say: "Can you come over after school so we can play it?"

He smirks. "I'm sorry, I've got stuff to do. Maybe another time."

I smile. "Sure, no problem."

During the rest of class we are both silent. It is only after the lesson, as we're walking to the lunchroom, that Evan says something. "Let's go outside."

It's halfway through autumn, so even though the sun is shining, I know it'll be quite cold. But I also know Evan wants some privacy, so I nod. When we're outside, my best friend starts talking.

"So..."

I smile. He wants to tell me, but I think I already know. This all sucks.

He swallows. "You know, this cast..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to?"

"I want you to tell everyone it was an accident. I was crossing the road and a cyclist hit me."

I nod. "Alright."

We're slowly walking to the big oak, where we always have lunch in summer. It's actually off the school grounds, so we're not allowed to go there, but we never get in trouble for it. I think teachers don't mind us going there, since we're the kids that never get into trouble or fights. We're the quiet students, which basically means we can do whatever we like. As long as the other kids didn't start complaining, that is.

"I think you already know what happened." Evan says.

I hesitate. "I think so? Was it... your dad?"

He nods.

I immediately feel myself tearing up. "Dude, I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't that bad, Asher. But, you know... he's gone now."

"Is he?!"

"Yeah."

I'm not sure how to respond. I think it's a good thing, but can I tell him that? Maybe it would be hurtful. "And how do you feel about that?"

He sighs. "I think I'm relieved. It's all over now, you know?"

I nod and just stare at him. If only I was able to comfort him the way I wanted to, I'd make him feel safe again. But I know he isn't into me that way.

The next week I ask Evan every day if he wants to come over. I have no idea what his home situation is like now, but I want to offer him a break if he needs it. I know he doesn't like it when I bug him about it, so I let it slide quickly, but I make sure to ask it at least once a day. Sometimes I really hate that that he isn't a talker like me. I would love to ask him about his situation, so I can help him as best as I can. But I also know he'll talk to me about it when the time is right. So for now all I can do is show him that I'm here for him.

Needless to say, I'm quite happy when after a week he answers "yes" to my question. He wants to play this new game I bought called The Stanley Parable.

"Cool! So, let's meet after school and go to my place?"

Evan smiles. "Yeah, that's a good idea. I really have to see this game you've been so hyped about."

I shrug. "Haven't played it yet, wanted to wait for you."

He looks at the ground. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to hang out, I was... busy."

I so desperately want to hug him now, but I know he'd be uncomfortable with it. "No problem. You had to sort some stuff out. By the way, I haven't signed your cast yet!"

The boy laughs. "You can do that today!"

That afternoon, around 3 o'clock, we meet up near the bike rack at school. Together we make our way to my home, while talking about simple stuff. I never had deep conversations with Evan, but since the "accident" with his dad, our conversations have become even lighter. I think I worry I'd ask something inappropriate, so I stay with the easy stuff. I like this boy, we've been friends since we were five, but sometimes I wish we could take our friendship to another level, you know?

"Evan," my mom says when we enter the house. "Finally! I missed you."

I had explained some of the stuff to mom two days ago when she asked where Evan had been. I didn't tell her exactly what happened, but since she knew some background stuff about him, she must have been able to connect the dots.

"Thank you. I missed you too." He blushes a little.

We walk upstairs to my room, a room that's almost as much Evan's as mine. "What should I draw on your cast?" I ask as I start my computer and connect the controller. "What about a silly stick figure?"

He sighs. "Something that doesn't stick out?"

"A dickbutt?" I laugh.

"Please!"

The first twenty minutes I play the game alone, since it's single player. It's a comedy game, and it actually really fits our sense of humour, so we keep laughing. After some time, I hand him the controller. He grabs it with his left arm, but has to hold it far from his body in order to hold it with both hands, because his right arm is in a cast. I think he broke both his arm and his wrist, because his cast reaches from the palm of his hand all the way to his elbow. He can basically only wriggle his fingers on his right hand, and he can't hold anything.

"Dude, I hadn't thought of this. I can't even hold it properly."

I chuckle. "Oh shit, yeah, that sucks. Can't you like... no never mind. I thought you could use just your left hand, but that doesn't work."

"Yeah, only when you have a cast around your arm do you realise how much you normally actually use it."

"It's your right hand. I can only imagine how much you'd miss that!" I joke as I keep pressing on a door in the game, since it's what the narrator had told me not to do (believe me, when you play The Stanley Parable, you'll start doing the exact opposite of what the narrator wants you to do soon enough).

"Yeah, like writing in class, I can't do that."

I laugh. "That's not what I meant."

A little blush appearing on his face, he mutters: "Oh."

I laugh even harder at his ignorance now. "I can't begin to imagine how to suddenly shift to my left hand."

He tries his best not to be uncomfortable, I see, which only makes me decide to push it even a little further. I never dared to "do" teenage talk with him, since I knew he'd be ashamed, but sometimes I wonder if maybe I should have. I have some other friends, but Evan doesn't really have that many. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I feel like I'm his parent and should have the birds and the bees talk, not at all. If anything, I probably just like seeing his blush, it's cute.

"Or well, I take it you had to swap to left? You can't even hold a controller!"

He smiles uncomfortable. "Dude..."

"What?! I'm genuinely interested. I don't think I ever tried it with my left."

"You shouldn't," he suddenly says. "Doesn't work."

I burst out in laughter. "I didn't expect you... to actually... reply," I say through my snickers. "Oh god, that sounded so funny coming from you."

"What? You started it."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm sorry. It's just so weird all of a sudden." I keep laughing, but then I notice Evan looks like he is feeling awkward. "I'm not laughing at you. I was just surprised. It's good to finally talk about this stuff."

He raises an eyebrow. "Is it? Why?"

"I dunno. I think it's normal to talk and joke about it. We all know everyone does it, y'know? So why should it be taboo? We're teenagers. Guys. It's natural to banter about it."

He shrugs.

"So left hand doesn't work. What then?"

"Nothing," he admits.

"Seriously? For a week already? Dude, we're sixteen, it's part of our job."

Evan grins. "As if I don't know that... it sucks, but nothing I can do."

"How long do you have to keep the cast?"

He frowns. "Another four weeks."

"Ouch," I say as I feign being hurt physically. And with that, our teenage talk is done.

From this day on, we got together every day to play the game. It's not a long game, but with all different storylines to explore and with us never paying attention, causing us to have to play the same plot again and again, we still manage to fill countless of hours with the game. All this time, we don't talk about the teen things again. I know Evan doesn't want to.

Eight days later suddenly something comes up again.

We're sitting on the couch together, drinking a soda while watching the menu screen of the game. This is what we do a lot, not actually playing, but just sitting here and talking about stuff. Completely out of the blue, Evan says: "Remember our talk last week?"

"What talk?" I ask.

"The one about... the left hand... you know?"

I laugh. "Ohhh that talk. Yeah, what about it?"

"The weirdest thing happened to me yesterday. My mom started about it."

"She did what?! What did she say?" I try not to burst out in laughter, but Evan's frown makes that almost impossible.

"Apparently she thinks I'm grumpy lately or something. Complaining a lot, she says."

"Are we talking about the same thing? I meant jerking off..."

He rolls his eyes. "I know. I'm not stupid."

I laugh. "Alright, go on. This is going to be an interesting story, right?"

"I guess. So anyway, she said she thought I was angry with things since I couldn't... you know... jerk off." He whispered those last words.

I'm having such a hard time keeping a straight face. And honestly, trying to envision him masturbating also causes other reactions in my body. "Actually, I thought about that last week," I say. Believe me, I did think about it. A lot! I tried to imagine him struggling with his left hand and a hard cock, but not really getting into it. That'd be so cute to see, even though it actually is quite sad for him. "Does it really not work with your left? Never tried it, but I can't imagine not reaching... that point... at all, you know?"

"Dude, believe me. I tried it! But I just can't - I don't know - get the right rhythm or something? My hard starts cramping, it feels weird and I get distracted. It's so strange, believe me... This is so awkward to talk about."

I grin. "Gotta try it myself, then."

"Asher, bro, seriously. I'm crashing here tonight, remember? I don't want to know about your solo escapades." He grins.

"Don't worry, don't worry. You won't notice anything!"

Evan doesn't even reply to this, he just sighs out loud.

"But okay, you're grumpy. Understandably. I'm sure I would be grumpy. But what about your mom?"

"Dude, it was so unreal. Like, she kept asking about it. At some point she even said I should go to a doctor."

I frown. "A doctor? For not jerking off? What the..."

"Apparently this is a common problem with boys with casts that reach up to your hand... and seriously, you can like... be taken care of... medically."

I need a second to have those words be processed. "A doctor can jack you off?!"

"Dude, sst."

I'm laughing so loud right now, it wouldn't surprise me if the neighbours could hear me. "Dude, what the hell. Imagine being a doctor that has to give handjobs to teenagers."

"That's what I mean."

"So, what did you say?" I ask.

"What do you think? Of course not!"

For the first time in this conversation, I'm actually being dead serious. "Why not? I mean, of course it's weird, but still, it's getting the job done, you know?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No," I reply with a straight face.

"You should go and have a doctor jerk you off, you horn dog," he laughs. "But that's weird."

I shrug. "I guess. But you have three more weeks to go, right? I'd consider it."

"Freak," he giggles.

"Honestly though, apart from the doctor thing, it makes you wonder, what'd be the boundary for ya?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, where is the boundary between it being just a solution to a problem, or something more sexual. If a cute girl would offer to do it, would you consider it?"

He thinks about that for a second. "I think? It would still be weird, I guess, if it's only in a medical way, you know? But when it's a cute girl... And yet, if it's not sexual but only to help me out - a helpless boy - I'm not sure."

"Then the next question would be, why's that different? People have one night stands all the time, just to get off, right?"

"I guess?"

"Hell, people even have circle jerks, ever heard of that?" I notice I'm getting horny now, thinking about him being with a girl. I've fancied him for a long time, but I also know he's not into boys. I'm really certain of that. So the closest fantasy I have - that's even a little realistic - is watching him having sex with a girl. And damn, have I enjoyed that vision wandering through my mind on countless occasions.

"Uh, I think so. I can imagine what it is, anyway."

"It's guys taking care of each other," I try to say as straight as I can.

"Seriously?!"

I smile. "Yes, not really strange, in my opinion. Like, it's kinda like masturbating, but instead of doing yourself, you do someone else. And they'll do it back. Having someone else do it obviously feels better."

He tries to grin, but I notice his awkwardness seeping through. "Well, that part is understandable. But you'd have to touch someone else. I don't know, I'd find that odd."

"Why? What's objectively the difference between that and your own dick? It's a body part, you're doing it to help someone else."

"Do you really think that?"

I nod while suddenly a bold idea pops into my mind.

"I don't know. It feels like it would be different, you know?" he says.

"Like having a doctor do it for you?"

"Exactly!"

I think about that for a second. "But, the circle jerk, something like that would help you. It's better than a doctor."

"Yeah, but I can't do it back. Wouldn't even want to do it back to someone."

"That's not what I mean. I'm offering to do it for you."

"Huh?"

"Like I said. I don't think it's any different to touch someone else than to touch myself. And if you find going to a doctor weird... I'm just connecting the dots."

He looks at me flabbergasted. "Would you do that?"

"Sure."

He looks at me for a few seconds while trying to figure out if I meant it, all the while my mind is going full-speed, trying to imagine all the things that could happen now.

"No dude, that's weird. I'm not THAT desperate."

I quickly laugh it away as I try to hide my disappointment. I wouldn't have minded finally touching him, even if he wouldn't do it back. Hell, I even would've offered to suck him off for the rest of his life without getting anything back. I want him close to me. To put my arms around him and protect him from the evil world outside.

I may seem horny and way too in love with my best friend, but I don't really think that's the case, to be honest. Sure, I'm gay and Evan is cute as hell, but he's also fragile. I know a few things about his family and his dad, and I also know there is much more going on. Evan is a shy kid, he's afraid of people, but he's also sweet. I fancy him, true, but I also want to protect him.

I want to have him close and shield him from bad things that might happen. To me, even though I would love to touch him, there isn't a big difference between friendship and love. But I'm sure he doesn't think about it that way.

"But thank you for offering it, I guess," he says.

"Sure, no problem, bud. Just want to help you out." With that, the topic was tabled.

We played some Stanley and actually googled some of the more well-hidden plots you could play because we already did all the obvious ones. We joked some more, and I considered asking what happened at home, but I didn't. It's the second time this week Evan asked if he could sleep at my place, so I bet there's still stuff going on. But as always, he wouldn't be comfortable talking about it.

Four days later something really weird happened. During our literature class, we were talking about playing another game when we'd meet up later that day. We had to figure out what to buy next. Apparently, the teacher heard what we were talking about, and he called us out in class. He said: "you should talk about those stupid things when you're not in school."

I nodded in defeat, but Evan replied: "I'd rather talk about this than about school stuff."

I think the teacher was as surprised as me and all the other students. He was confused for a second, although I know if it had been someone else who had said that, he would've been sent away immediately. Instead, he asked Evan to talk to him after class and continued with the lesson. I'm not sure what they had talked about, but now he is on my couch, staring in front of him with a glass of soda.

"So how are you?" I ask when I have made sure mom won't hear us.

"Good, considering...," is his absent reply.

I consider asking about today, but I know I'd have to lighten the mood first. I grin. "Still didn't go to the doctor?'

He laughs. Throughout the last few days I often made remarks about it; it kind of became our inside joke. "Nah dude. Why would I, if I'm that desperate, I still have your offer," he says with a sly grin.

Okay, what the hell is this? That must be the last remark I expected him to make. "Did you really believe that offer was still open?" I joke.

He laughs and playfully punches me in the shoulder with his good hand. "I knew you'd take that back!"

"I didn't say that. Actually, the offer is still open."

"Rea... really?" Suddenly he looks nervous again.

"You're considering it?" Could it really be? Will this be the day? I can feel my heartbeat rise instantly.

He fidgets with his hands. "Well, you know. It is only two-and-a-half weeks in now. That's halfway."

"Dude, don't be so awkward about it. I said I'd do it and you obviously need it."

He chuckles uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know. But... can you maybe... look away then?"

"I've seen you naked before, at PE, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. But this is different. This will be... hard." He looks as if he's on the verge of crying. "It's already really embarrassing..."

I try not to laugh at his way of phrasing it as being `hard'. "It's okay. Of course I'll look away, bro! Why would I want to look, anyway."

"Yeah, true... so... " He smirks. "Never mind. Stupid of me to ask. Let's play a game." He looks away.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Dude, I said I'd do it. I will. You know you need this. What the hell was that in class outburst even all about?"

He shrugs.

"I notice you being different too. And of course it's not only because of that shit with your cast and not jerking off. There is stuff going on. You don't want to talk about it, which is fine. I get it. But please, let me help you. I don't need to talk about it, but I want to be there for you. I want to be a friend to you."

"You're literally offering to jack me off dude, that's not what helping should look like."

"I know," I admit. Dude, if only he knew how much I want this. And of course my judgement is kind of blurry because I can't stop thinking about seeing him naked. Am I weird, by the way? I want to see my best friend naked, jerk him off. Make him feel good. Am I just taking advantage of him, or do I really want this for him? Should I tell him how I feel?

No, that would scare him off.

"I know it's a weird thing to offer. But also, it's the only thing I could think of to help you. And I really want to help you, to be there for you. You deserve to feel good."

He turns back to me, his eyes watered up. "Thank you for saying that."

"I mean it. And maybe offering this is weird, I know, but at least it shows how much I care about you."

He grins. "Thanks, really. But doing that for me isn't what you should... go through... to show that you care for me."

I shrug. "Like I said, I don't think it's that weird. The weirdest part would be not getting anything back, but even that... I dunno. It's just a body part to me," I chuckle. "And I know that sounds dorky. But it's true. Means nothing to me."

"Maybe that's the problem," he replies with a frown. "To me it matters. It would be so weird, I'm even embarrassed to see someone else naked, you know? So to me, your offer is completely out of place."

"Yes, you said that. And it's my bad for never considering how strange it may seem to you. I was just trying to help, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I do. And maybe we both made the same mistake."

I look at him questioningly.

"I mean, we both looked at the situation only from our own perspective. You never considered that I may find it weird and awkward, but I never realised that to you it really isn't weird. I thought you were only offering it against your will... to help me... I thought you found me a pathetic, little, helpless..."

"Stop that, dude. You're my best friend. I don't think like that about you. I think we're making this more awkward than it should be."

He laughs. "Yes, you're right."

"Just remember that I'm here for you. I care about you, okay? And I know you don't like talking about stuff, but if you ever want to, know that I'll help you. As for the whole deal, you know," I subtly nod at his crotch. "You may find it odd, but it will really help you. And I honestly, honestly do not mind, okay? I'd do it for anyone."

"Really?"

"Well, anyone I care about, that is." As I say it, I know it's a lie. I'd wish I could be like that, I wish I could convince myself it's really because I care about Evan, but I also know I would never jerk of John, another friend of mine. I care about John, but I wouldn't even want to see him naked, blegh. He isn't ugly or anything, but he's just a friend, I can't imagine anything sexual with him. Weird, isn't it, what's different with Evan?

He looks at the floor. "It's still so weird."

"I know. I'm sorry for offering. It's all up to you."

"You really don't think it's weird?"

I look directly into his eyes. It's now or never. Do I find it weird? Am I willing to do this? "No."

"Alright, let's do it."

My heartbeat starts rising again. Is this really happening? Am I not destroying my friendship now? "Sure. Now?"

He nods.

It's going to happen. Oh my god. Breathe, Asher, breathe.

"Can you... get out of your pants on your own?" I ask carefully, afraid he will chicken out again. I still can't believe we're going to do this. I know it's not supposed to be sexual and I really, really should make sure he doesn't see I'm getting hard now, but still, it's what I fantasised about so many times. I just gotta tell myself I'm not using his fragility right now, that's all.

He looks pale. "Nah... Can I still say no?"

"Sure."

"Okay. That's what I needed to hear. Thanks. So, can you... help me with my pants?"

I smile. "Can do. And I won't look, okay?"

He nods and gets up.

I take a deep breath and move my hands slowly to his pants, giving him enough time to still say no. He wants this as well, right? I didn't push him. I undo his belt and I open the fly of his pants. I think I can feel he's already semi hard, but since I'm looking the other way, I can't know for sure.

"Thanks," he says and I guide my hands away from my best friend. I hear some rummaging next to me and then I hear his pants drop. Some more sounds, and the sense of him sitting down. "This is weird."

"It shouldn't be. Ready?"

"Yes. Thank you, Asher."

"Anything for you, bud."

I feel his left hand reach for my hand and very slowly - it feels like an eternity - he pulls my hand towards him. Towards his dick, I suppose. Oh god, this is going to be weird, he was right. This will be a story I'll never tell anyone, I know that much already..

There it is. I can feel the warmth of his penis in my hand, which is now wrapped about it. Oh god, I want to look at it. I want to see myself jerk him off, but I know this is all I can get. For now.

Slowly, I move my hand up and down. I had seen him naked, so I knew he had a normal-sized cock, but feeling his hard dick in my hand without being able to look at it, really puts things in perspective. It feels so much bigger than I expected! And the warmth of it, the structure, the hardness. It's so weird, in a sense it feels like my own dick, but it's also really different. It feels like I'm masturbating, but not feeling anything. As if my own dick is sleeping. I move up again. And down. I listen to his suppressed little moans. He's trying to hide his enjoyment. I speed up a little and his moans become more frequent. I want to look at him. I want to talk dirty to him.

"Oh, wait... we need something." He moves away, my hand still around his cock. I stopped jerking, so I'm now waiting awkwardly to continue, while still holding his dick. Now I'm not moving my hand anymore, I notice something else; the slow pulsating of his dick, following his heartbeat I suppose. Oh god, I'm already in love with his cock. I hope he can't see how much I'm enjoying this. "...To catch it." he says. "Okay, got it."

Without saying anything more, I continued the job. I'm having a hard time not looking at him. I don't even need to see his naked body anymore, I just want to see the expression on his face. I want to see what he looks like as he's enjoying my actions. Is this weird?

I keep jerking him off and with every movement; I lift my hips slightly. I'm not sure where Evan is looking and I don't want him to notice how much I'm into this, but with every hip lift, my underwears rubs my dick slightly. Shit, I should make sure don't cum.

A soft moan escapes Evan's lips, but he cuts it off immediately. He really doesn't want me to know he's enjoying this.

I speed up. I would love to use some lube or spit, I know that'd make him feel better, but I guess it also makes this more of a thing. Right now it still feels like a clumsy handjob, but with lube it'd be like a planned thing.

I notice his breathing is getting heavier. He must be getting close. I close my eyes as I try to envision what this would look like from a distance. I should've hidden a camera somewhere in my room. Oh god, a recording of this would be jack off material for the rest of my life.

With his breathing getting heavier, accompanied by soft moans he can't really suppress, I know I should imprint this feeling into my memory. It'll be over soon. Is this really happening? Am I giving a handjob to Evan? I really hope this won't make stuff awkward between us. I suddenly realise it was such a risk to offer this. I risked our friendship for some weird fantasy.

"Unghh," Evan moans

Yes, it was worth it. That moan was worth it all! I smile involuntarily and turn my hand ever so slightly, something I always do when I'm masturbating, to make it feel like a whole new experience.

"Egh. Hmmph."

I feel his dick twitch and throb with every spurt of cum leaving. One, two, three... four! Five! I can feel the couch move as Evan collapses onto it and I feel some fabric touching my hand. I consider leaving my hand on his now slowly softening dick, but I also know that'd be too weird.

"Oh god," Evan pants. "Thanks, bro."

Still not looking at him, although I thought about peeking secretly, I smile. "No problem. Felt like you needed that."

He laughs and sighs. "How did I survive two-and-a-half weeks without that?"

I chuckle. "You should ask, how will you survive another two-and-a-half weeks."

It's quiet for a second. "Do I have to?"

*** As always, please donate to Nifty.

stanniestories@gmail.com

patreon.com/stanniestories