Houses crowd the path, dogs barking at the sound of our flip..
Added 2025-07-18 01:02:08 +0000 UTCHouses crowd the path, dogs barking at the sound of our flip-flops dragging along. No cars or people pass by. The road ends in the brush. A sign put up by the locals begs "Don't dump trash," but it's not doing much good. We push through a layer of junk, heading into the hidden woods — a thin trail shows the way.
You lead with confidence, glancing back now and then to pass me the joint. "I love lighting up here, man, it's chill as fuck," you say, your voice softened by the buzz, a smile creeping in. I watch you walk — swatting at your legs every so often to shake off the bugs. Your shorts are slipping, and I spot the top of your crack, thinking, "Just one layer of fabric?"
