July 20, 2000
Paris, France
Will
I thought I’d figured out how to arrange the curtains to block out the light in the room, but evidently I’d missed a corner. Through that corner the morning sun blared, as bright as a 300-watt bulb, or at least that’s how it seemed. I rolled over onto my side and took in the sunlit view of John’s form. Damn, he was hot. I ran my hand across his chest and down his abdomen, smiling at how he moaned and squirmed under my touch. I pulled down the