Mustard's No Good Without Roast Beef - Chico Marx

by


Bodie's not an ambitious man. More...resolute. Dogged. It's got him out of a few tight corners over the years, thinking things through--having his escape route planned well in advance, a good strategy for retreat. Up until he met Ray Doyle. 'Cause Ray doesn't. Think about things, that is. Ray spots half a chance, grabs it with both hands, and gets stuck in. Bull at a gate. Feet first. Consequences be damned.

Mind you, with his face buried in the pillow and Ray balls-deep in his arse, Bodie finds it difficult to complain. He'll worry about afterwards, afterwards.



Left to Bodie, they'd still be dancing around each other. Not that Bodie's indecisive. He just ponders on things before doing them. And when they're done, he puts them behind him. Completely. At first Ray thought it was indifference, lack of feeling, but now he knows better. It's as though there's a limited amount of time for each problem and, having used up the allotted amount, Bodie needs no more. Whereas Ray's the complete opposite. He acts first and worries later.

But, draped over Bodie's back, about to shoot his load, he knows that this time there'll be no regrets.

-- THE END --

August 2006

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