Bacon

A spring day, about 4:30 pm, Dusty was awoken by the smell of bacon drifting in through the patio doors.
The neighbours often did a fry up for dinner around this time when the weather was good.
They had a big baclony. Dusty had a somewhat confined strip of concrete.
The apartment blocks in Tokyo are oddly shaped and it was the luck of the draw when choosing apartments as to how big your balcony is...if you care about that sort of thing.

He lay awake...hungry...trying to focus on the previous night.
The missus was waiting for the red cheque to clear so she hadn't been round to stay, that much he was sure.
He'd rented some porn.
That meant he'd thrashed his tadpoles somewhere in the room...almost certainly in a sock, which was the norm...maybe 2 socks, liquor allowing.
The liquor had confused him.
Hungry he was.

He started his energetic task of hauling his arse out of bed.
His bellend stuck to the inside of his underpants.
There's always that bit of post cum that appears after you've shot you're fat.

Get changed and get down to Yoshinoya for a slap up feast then call the gang about getting wasted tonight. It was Sunday and tomorrow was a work day after all.
Nothing like going into work smelling of whiskey and dried cum.