When I walk into the bar/waiting room I see Stew slouched backon the couch. He is not much to look at. Hell his cock is notmuch to suck. Damn his cum ...astes like shit (If I say it tastesbad it must really be bad). The only good thing I can say forfat bad tasting little dick Stew is, he pays me five hundreddollars for a blow job (he is not too bad after all).I always sit next to Stew to get the show started. He likes meto tell him I am going to suck his dick right here in front ofeverybody.. The first major event of the day was meeting Francine Martel—again. Sean had mentioned her, so I had time to process the memories. It was not a fun part of growing up. When I was ten or eleven, Mother dragged me to dance classes for several weeks. Sheila and Francine were both there, though Sheila did not remember me. Francine and Sheila moved on a higher plane than most of the students, while I was on a still lower plane. I remembered Francine but did not expect the reverse. Francine surprised. The moment he held them in his hands he knew they aught to be royal letters and sure enough, when he opened them, they were. Not only was the Eastern Queen Petunia coming to bless his humble home. Her brother and arch rival mind you, King Edmund of the West was coming as well. They’d been fighting a bloody war for years now, all for who was the rightful heir to all the lands. Fucking stupid, Alfred thought. He’d been a pirate most his life and when he unexpectedly found himself living at the. Go and get your tea. We will be right here.” I told her.Erin went into the kitchen and we heard the water run and then the microwave cranked up. A few minutes later she was back with a big steaming mug. Erin sat on the opposite side of the curved couch, with the couch back between us and leaned over the couch back, looking at us.“Paul, what you said bothered me a lot.”“I would hope that it would.”“Why would you hurt me like that?”“Why would you hurt our wife like that? Why would you lose faith.
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