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Sexual Innuendo

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Karim's part: the cigarette

 

Soot fell on the phone screen and Karim took it in stride, blowing away most of it. There are sparks that are fleeting.

Karim was afraid of the heat, and he couldn't stop hissing whenever burning soot flicked unceremoniously onto its owner. The old Ollie who used to be at his side, would laugh at him. Likewise he would comfort Karim, using his soft, thick tongue to soothe the latter's invisible wounds. It was more on a psychological level. Karim would never forget the warm, wet, soft touch, just as he would never forget the beginning of his life - when he was immersed in his mother's amniotic fluid for months.

So if there is anything Karim misses about Ollie, his tongue must be at the top of the list(not to mention his eyes).

The young Olivier had a few "tricks up his sleeve" like every little bugger you could bump into on a street corner. Putting out cigarettes with tongue is a no-brainer, and when he performs this himself, he probably looks askance at his audience, his watchers, high enough up but still hold his neck up a bit, with a playful curve of his mouth.

Karim had long been used to seeing him in all his glory. If he had been close by, he might have deliberately kept his head down, hands in his trouser pockets, or even lifted one foot, drawing a circle and using the sole of his shoe to crush the cigarette flatter around his foot, if there was still a flame. Yeah, if there's still a flame.

 

Of course, when Ollie used his tongue in the service of others, that was a different story.

He couldn't remember if the number of times they'd made each other cum with their mouths was fair, but what was certain was that Olivier always had a way of getting a greater degree of satisfaction out of himself. He always had a reason, always an excuse, to give himself the upper hand.

Crafty guy. Sometimes it was hard to say who had the greater part to play in this matter, Karim's generous tolerance or Olivier's quick-witted adeptness(seducewise).

When does the mirror in his mind cease to be clear; when does the lie reflected in his eyes...

 

Most of the time he was angry without rage, like a peaceful dead volcano.

 

 

 

Olivier's part: the ring

 

The pain of a tight ring

If only there was something to lubricate

 

He sat in the car, looking at the still painful mark in the light of the street lamp, then smiled, more like laughing at himself. He lifted his knuckles and kissed the mark, not sure if it was a comfort to his body or the one who had given him such a leash.

Karim naturally knew his size, and if it was set small, it was done on purpose. You never knew what was in that brain of his that didn't have much to cover it. In fact they both used to have longer hair. Back then he would laugh at Karim for looking silly, and Karim would secretly learn to use hairspray himself, with poor results in his opinion.

It didn't matter, the wise man was not confused.

 

 

To translate, Giroud tried to take his ring off when he couldn't and remembered that he fucked Benzema without lube and bled out (please cut the shit)

Probably on the way to an affair (just stop)