By Mark The Good Pen
By now I'm sure you know the drill, so I won't bore you with another disclaimer to ignore.
Thank you to everyone who has sent me their feedback on this story. You're feedback is very much appreciated!!
Feedback is always welcome at thegoodpen@inbox.com. Please put Wanting Perfection in the subject of your e-mail. I will try my best to respond to all e-mails.
My other story on Nifty:
Sierra Inn (Gay Male Adult/Youth: Last Posted April 20, 2010)
Enjoy!!
Wanting Perfection
From Chapter 6:
Mom didn't say anything to me as I left the kitchen and headed out the front door. I started walking in the direction of Rick's house, the entire time trying to fight the tears from coming out. Rick had told me that I could come to him whenever I needed to. I didn't know why I felt that I needed to see him at that particular moment but he was the person I wanted to be with the most at that moment. When I got to Rick's house I rang the doorbell but there was no answer at first. Feeling like I really needed to talk to Rick, I started banging on his front door as hard as I could.
"I'm coming. I'm coming," I suddenly heard Rick yell from inside. "Hold your horses!" he said as he turned the lock and opened the door. "Justin, what are you doing here?" he asked. Apparently I had woken him up because he was only wearing a gray t-shirt and boxers.
"My parents," I said, as I lost the battle with my tears and they started to fall down my cheeks. "They're getting a divorce."
"What?" Rick asked, as he motioned for me to come inside.
"They were screaming at each other last night," I said as I stepped through the door, which Rick quickly shut behind me. "My Mom threw my Dad out. And she just told me that they're going to get a divorce."
"Oh, Justin I'm so sorry," Rick said. "Why don't you have a seat," he said, leading me over to the metal chair that I would sit on for my trumpet lessons.
"I don't want them to get a divorce," I said, through my tears which were coming at a pretty fast rate. "I want things to be the way they always were."
"I know you do," Rick said as he sat down on the chair next to mine and scooted it closer to mine. "But it'll be okay," he said as he put his arm around my shoulder.
"I don't know what to do," I said, as I started to cry into his shoulder.
"You don't have to do anything," Rick said, softly.
"I'm sorry," I said, as I lifted my head from his shoulder. "For waking you up."
"Justin, I told you, you can come over here anytime you need to," Rick said. "I will always be here for you no matter what."
"Thanks," I said, as wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my right hand.
"God Justin this is killing me," Rick said suddenly.
"What is?" I asked, with a sniffle.
"Seeing you this upset," Rick said. "It's ripping my heart into pieces."
"Why?" I asked.
"I don't know for sure, it's never happened before," Rick said. "I guess it just means I really care about you, I mean really, really care about you."
Chapter 7
I didn't know what to say to Rick in response. It wasn't like people had never told me they cared about me. I had heard it plenty of times before, but no other time had it given me goose bumps the way it did when Rick said it. The words coming from Rick's mouth were sincere, I could tell, still he had a look on his face that told me he was surprised by the way he felt. Looking back now I am sure Rick had been, before he met me, someone who would sleep with a guy put another notch in his belt and then move on for another conquest. Caring about someone, I am sure, never came into the equation. I do not know, even now ten years later, what made me different from all of the others he would eventually tell me about. Like I have said often I had no quality that would make me stand out in a group. So that day, sitting next to Rick in his front room, his arm around my shoulder all I could do was look at him and smile a little.
"Are you going to be okay?" Rick asked, after a few moments of silence.
"Yeah, I will be," I said with a little nod.
"Good," Rick said. "Hey did you have breakfast yet?"
"No," I said, shaking my head.
"Well how about we go and get something to eat?" he asked. "I'm starving."
"I don't know," I said hesitantly. "I didn't tell my Mom, I was coming over here or anything, I just said I was going for a walk."
"Is she going to work today?" Rick asked.
"I don't think so," I said, with a little shrug.
"Well, how about we go ask if it's okay for you to spend the day with me?" Rick asked, a little smile on his face. "That way you don't have to lie or anything."
"Okay," I said hesitantly.
Rick, who the entire time had been wearing a gray t-shirt and boxers goes to take a shower and get dressed while I stayed in the small living room and watched television. Twenty minutes later I was riding in the passenger seat of Rick's hatchback.
"I need something bigger," Rick said, as he drove slowly down the street to my house.
"This is okay," I said, trying to be polite.
"Thanks," he said, with a little smile.
When we got to my house Rick parked his car in the driveway and I slowly got out and headed into the house. Rick told me to tell my Mom our plan, and get my trumpet since I was supposed to have a lesson that afternoon anyway. When I got into the house I found Mom, still sitting at the kitchen table sitting almost the same exact way she had been when I left.
"That's awfully nice of him," Mom said after I told her Rick's plan. "Tell him thanks for me."
"Okay," I said. "But do you want me to stay with you?" I asked. "I mean are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah I'll be fine," she said with a nod. "You go spend the day with Rick, he seems like a really nice guy."
"Thanks," I said, as I walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. Even though I had offered to the last thing I wanted to do that day was hang around the house. Maybe I should have been there for my Mom, in her obvious time of need but it just wasn't in me to handle something like that at the time.
"I love you, Mom," I said, trying to show the little support I could muster.
"I love you too, Justin," she said, a little smile coming to her face. "And honey, don't worry I'll be okay. You have fun today."
"Thanks," I said before heading for the door.
Rick drove to a local pancake house not far from our neighborhood. We were seated in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, facing each other as we looked over the menu. I found what I wanted quickly, but Rick was studying his menu as though it was his tax return.
"Do you come here a lot?" he asked me, since I had been the one to suggest the place.
"Well I did, with my Dad," I said.
"What do you like?" he asked.
"The blueberry pancakes," I told him.
"Hmmm," Rick said as he scratched his chin. "That does sound good," he added as he put his menu down on the table in front of him. "I think I'll have those too. How are you doing?" he asked, as he looked across the table and right into my face.
"Okay, I guess," I said, with a little shrug. "Thanks for doing this."
"Doing what?" Rick asked.
"Bringing me out like this," I said.
"Well I was going to have to eat breakfast anyway," Rick said, with a little smirk. "Justin, what I said before at the house I hope I didn't scare you or anything but I meant what I said. When I told you that I really do care about you."
"It's cool," I said. "It surprised me a little, I guess. But it didn't scare me or anything."
"Good," Rick said. "But why did it surprise you?"
"I don't know," I said, with a shrug.
"Justin," Rick said, as he leaned forward in the booth scanning the virtually empty restaurant to make sure nobody was in ear shot. "Like I told you that stuff we did, I've done them before with other guys. But those times were just to get off. But with you it's different for me. I see something inside of you that makes me feel more for you than anybody else I have ever had."
With everything that Rick said in that statement, it was the last part of it that has stuck out in my brain all of these years. I made him feel different than anybody else he ever had, shows exactly what type of person Rick was at one point in his life. I still do not know, even today, if I truly was the person to spark the change in Rick or if he simply was ready for something deeper than what he was used to. And sitting across the table from him that day, waiting for blueberry pancakes I didn't even fully understand what he was getting at. I knew what he was saying was nice, and it made me feel kind of special. But I wouldn't fully understand what he was trying to say that morning until later on.
I looked at Rick, with what must have been a look of confusion in my face as I tried to wrap my reeling brain around what he had just told me. The one thing I knew for sure was that for the first time in my life I didn't feel like wallpaper. To the person sitting across the table from me, I was the center of the room, the ultimate in his world, at least for the moment. And I didn't want that to end, I didn't want to go back to being part of the scenery. After the waiter came to take our orders, Rick smiled at me and for a brief second put his hand on top of my hands which were folded in front of me on the table.
"Justin, I can't fix everything in your world," he said, giving my folded hands a little squeeze before pulling his hand back. "But like I've told you, I will always be here to listen. And I can't tell you how happy I am that you came to me this morning."
"I'm sorry I woke you up," I said, having wanted to apologize for that all morning.
"Don't worry about that," Rick said with a chuckle as he shook his head. "It's about time I saw what the world looked like before nine o'clock," he laughed.
"I didn't know what to do," I said. "I mean I just had to get out of the house, and I didn't want to tell Shawn about it."
"Shawn?" Rick asked.
"He's my best friend," I said. "I've known him forever, he lives next door to me."
"Nice," Rick said. "So why don't you want to tell him?"
"I don't know," I said, with a shrug. "I think I've told him enough for awhile," I said, thinking back to the conversation I had with Shawn the day before, the one where I admitted that I thought I was gay.
"Well real friends will always listen," Rick said. "No matter how much you tell them."
"I guess," I said, with a shrug. "I'll tell him later."
"Maybe there won't be anything to tell him," Rick said. "Maybe your parents will stay together."
"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. "Mom was pissed, she kicked Dad out. And this morning she said that they were going to get a divorce."
"She's angry," Rick said. "People say things they don't mean when they're angry."
"I guess," I said with a shrug, not buying the hope Rick was trying to sell to me.
The rest of breakfast was passed with Rick asking me questions about my life, friends, hobbies, school. It was really all stuff he had already asked me about during my first trumpet lesson but the way he asked during that breakfast was different. There seemed to be real interest where the first time it was almost as though he was following a script. But that morning, sitting in the back corner of the restaurant Rick seemed genuinely interested in knowing more about me.
After breakfast, Rick brought me back to his house. I wondered if he had other lessons that day besides mine, and asked him about it. He told me that he actually didn't have many clients at the moment so for that day I was his only lesson. When we got back to his house Rick suggested doing my lesson in the morning, so we could have the rest of the day to do something I would find more fun. I agreed, just wanting to get the lesson over with.
"You're getting good," Rick said, as I was putting my trumpet back in the case after the lesson was over. "Pretty soon you're not going to need me anymore."
"Really?" I asked, surprised. I had yet to see the full extent of my own improvement.
"Don't be so excited about that," Rick said, with a little smirk. "But seriously, Justin you are getting much better. You've been practicing, I can tell."
"Yeah, that's what I was doing last night," I said. "When I heard my parents fighting."
"So you know what they were fighting about," Rick said.
"Yeah," I said with a nod as I put my trumpet case on the floor next to my chair. "My Dad cheated."
"Oh," Rick said, his eyes growing a little. "Your Mom just found out?"
"I don't know," I said, with a shrug. "I guess."
"Are you mad at him?" Rick asked.
"Should I be?" I asked.
My Dad and I had, and continue to have, a strange relationship. I continually sought his approval, rarely getting it, and the entire time I never knew if I really even respected him. I respected him in the way any son would respect his father. But I knew my Dad had issues from the time I could remember. Still I never expected that he would cheat on my Mom. And most of the time, the quickest way for anyone to get me angry would be to do something to hurt my Mom. But for some reason that day, I wasn't angry. Maybe it was from the shock, it all did not seem real yet. Or maybe I had not given myself permission to be angry with anyone yet. But at that moment sitting in Rick's house, I found myself numb more than anything else.
"Well it's okay if you are mad at him," Rick said, answering my question. "But it's okay if you're not also."
"I'm not yet," I said, as I looked down at the ground in front of my feet. "Maybe I will be though."
"And that's fine," Rick said, as his hand started to rub my shoulder.
"Can we talk about something else?" I asked.
"Sure," Rick said, with a little chuckle.
The rest of that day Rick and I didn't do anything extraordinarily special. We spent a couple of hours watching television, before Rick made us sandwiches for lunch. In the afternoon we went to a movie before Rick brought me home. Our conversations the rest of the day were really just about general stuff, nothing all that important, but it was during that day I started seeing Rick in a different light. It was that day that I began to like Rick, the person, not just Rick the body. I saw his kindness, his sense of humor in full whereas before I had only caught glimpses of either. And when I returned home that evening I felt something I never thought I would. I missed Rick, I wanted to spend more time with him and it felt like there was something missing because he was not around. I was not used to missing people. I was around my parents so much I had never had the opportunity to miss them. And while I liked my friends, I guess I didn't like them enough to miss them when they weren't around. So the feeling I got as I walked into my house that evening after watching Rick drive away was strange to me.
I did not have much time to think about missing Rick, however. As I walked into the living room I was greeted with a surprise as I saw Dad sitting on the couch, staring at the blank television screen. For a brief second I hoped things somehow returned to how they were before last night. But I quickly told myself not to get my hopes up. With how Mom had been acting that morning, I knew better than to truly hope for that.
"Dad," I said, slowly, as I walked up to the side of the couch.
"Hey there buddy," Dad said, in a somber voice as he looked up at me.
"Where's Mom?" I asked.
"She went out for a bit," Dad said.
"Are you still going to live here?" I asked, not being able to let go of the hope that my parents made up.
"Justin, come here," Dad said, patting the couch cushion next to his. The fact that he called me by my name, made me know that what he was going to tell me was going to be serious and more than likely I was not going to like it. "This is tough for me," Dad said after I sat down next to him. "But Justin, I've made some bad choices recently. And unfortunately I'm not the only one who has to pay for the mistakes that I have made."
"You cheated on Mom," I said, in a moment of bravery.
"You heard?" Dad asked, as his face went white as a sheet.
"Yeah," I said with a nod.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that last night," Dad said.
"That's okay," I said. "But did you guys make up?"
"Justin, I wish it was that simple," Dad said. "But with what I've done, Mom finds it hard to trust me. And if you can't trust someone it makes it really hard to be married to them. So I'm going to be living in a motel for a little while, until we figure out exactly what to do. And in the meantime there's something I need you to promise me."
"What?" I asked.
"Justin, don't blame your Mom for any of this," Dad said. "If you're going to be angry with anyone, be angry at me. I did this, this is my fault not your mothers. You understand?"
"Yeah," I said, with a little nod. "But Dad can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Dad said.
"Why did you do it?" I asked.
"Because I thought I could get away with it," Dad said simply.
Right as Dad finished his sentence we heard the door from the garage shut and Mom came into the living room. She looked at the two of us sitting on the couch and for a moment I thought she was going to be angry with me for even having spoken to Dad.
"Did you two talk?" Mom asked, Dad.
"Yes," Dad said. "And thank you for letting me do that."
"Well now that you did, you can go," Mom said, coldly.
"Okay," Dad said, softly. "Buddy, I'll be seeing you," he said as he stood up.
"K," I said softly, as I stood up also.
"There's one more thing I need you to do for me," Dad said, as he put his hands on my shoulders and looked right into my eyes.
"What?" I asked.
"Remember, that no matter what happens I will always love you," he said, before grabbing me into a hug.
To say I was taken by surprise was an understatement. I always knew that my Dad loved me, I never once questioned that. But Dad was not the type of person who would go around saying those words. To him you showed love by doing things for people, not by saying it. And quite honestly that was enough for me. In fact I did not even remember the last time I had heard him say that he loved me before that moment.
"I love you too," I said, as I returned his hug.
The numbness I had felt since that morning continued as I watched my Dad leave the house. I spent the night in my room watching television, as Mom locked herself in her room right after dinner. At first I thought she was angry with me for having hugged Dad as I had. But then when I went to say goodnight to her, I could hear her crying through the closed door. Somehow, with out ever hearing it, I knew that I was not the reason for her crying.
The next day was Saturday, and when I woke up in the morning I found my Mom already dressed sitting on the couch reading a magazine. When I came into the room she looked up at me and gave me a weak smile.
"I'm sorry about last night," she told me as I sat down next to her on the couch.
"It's okay," I said. "Are you okay?"
"I will be," she answered.
Before either of us could say anything else the doorbell rang. Deciding to be nice, I got up and went to get the door.
"Hey Justin," Rick who was standing outside, said after I opened the door.
"Hey," I said.
"How's it going?" he asked.
"Okay, I guess," I said.
"Good," he said. "Is your Mom home?"
"Yeah," I answered, hesitantly.
"Can I talk to her?" Rick asked.
"Why?" I asked, suspiciously.
It doesn't really make sense to me now, because I know that it would have never happened. But at the time I feared, Rick telling someone about what we had been doing. And when he asked to speak with my Mom, I got nervous that he was going to tell her that I was gay. It was not that I did not trust Rick, because honestly I did trust him as much as I possibly could for the length of time that I have known him. It simply was that I was paranoid. I did not want too many people knowing that I might be gay, and least of all my Mom.
"Well I thought that since we're spending so much time together, she might feel better about it if she met me for more than the five minutes it took to sign you up for trumpet lessons," Rick said, a little smile coming to his face.
"Oh okay," I, seeing the logic in Rick's statement, said. "I guess you can come in," I said, nervously.
I led Rick into the living room, where my Mom was still sitting on the couch continuing to read her magazine. In our neighborhood it was not uncommon to get people ringing the doorbell on Saturday morning. Usually it was a neighborhood kid trying to sell something for one fundraiser or another. So Mom never thought to get up from the couch to see who it was.
"Mom," I said, slowly as I approached from behind the couch. "Rick's here."
Mom quickly, stood up and turned around letting her magazine fall onto the couch in front of her. The look of surprise on her face was quickly replaced with a small smile.
"Hello, Mrs. Hughes," Rick said, in the most professional tone I had ever heard him speak in. "Nice to see you again."
"Hi Rick," Mom said with the small smile still on her face. "And please call me Linda."
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I just wanted to come by and make sure Justin spending all of this time with me was okay with you," Rick said. "I don't want to be overstepping."
"Oh don't worry about that," Mom said quickly. "Actually I think it was very nice what you did for Justin yesterday. And for me, it gave me sometime to think things over."
"Well, Justin's a very good kid," Rick said. "I'm just glad I was able to help in someway."
"Thank you," Mom said.
"You're very welcome," Rick said, for the first time a small smile coming to his face. "Actually there is something else I came by for. You see there's this Jazz festival in Boulder today, and a friend of mine is performing. So I was wondering if Justin would like to come with me. If that is okay with you Linda."
"Well it's up to Justin," Mom said as she looked over at me.
"Yeah," I said somewhat plainly.
Inside I was actually quite excited about the possibility of spending another day with Rick. But I didn't want to show it, so I played it off like I would go simply because I had nothing better to do.
"Well then why don't you get ready," Rick said. "And I'll meet you back at my house in about half an hour."
"Okay," I said, nodding my head.
Forty five minutes later I was in the passenger's seat of Rick's car as he was driving towards Boulder. As we rode down the freeway Rick had a jazz station playing on the radio. I was expecting him to talk to me about something serious. He seemed to like to do things like that. But he said very little on that particular drive, as he appeared to be deep in thought. When we did get to Boulder he parked the car on the street in front of a small cafe, and led me inside.
"The jazz festival is in a little while," Rick said, as we took a seat at a table along the back wall of the cafe. "But I arranged to meet my friend here first."
"Okay," I said, slowly.
"Justin, this friend of mine," Rick said, slowly. "You should know something about him..."
"Rickey!!" a loud voice coming from the direction of the door interrupted Rick mid-sentence. "What's happening brother!"
A tall man about the same age as Rick, with a shaved head, dressed in a black t-shirt and black pants and silver chains dangling from around his neck came walking towards us. Rick stood up, and in no time flat was hugging this tall man.
"Zack, my friend it has been too long," Rick said, as the two broke their embrace.
"Well I guess you forgot how to pick up the fucking phone!" the man said, as he gently slapped Rick on the shoulder.
"That's a two way street you son of a bitch," Rick said, with a chuckle.
"Yeah, whatever," the man said, his smile widening as he noticed me still sitting down at the table across from Rick's now vacant chair. "And who do we have here?" he asked.
"This is Justin," Rick said. "He's taking trumpet lessons from me."
"Well, I'll be," the man said, shaking his head a little for no reason that was apparent to me. "Nice to meet you, Justin, I'm Zack."
"Hi," I said shyly.
"Why don't you have a seat, man," Rick said, as he pulled a chair from the vacant table behind him and placed it facing the wall in between me and him.
"Thanks, dude," Zack said, as he slowly sat down.
Rick and Zack, apparently had known each other for awhile as they quickly started reminiscing about the past when they were in a band together. I sat silently the entire time listening to their stories of their past drunken behavior. After about half an hour I excused myself to use the restroom. Where we were sitting was right by the entrance to a hallway which led to the restrooms. To get to the men's room you had to turn to the right on the other side of the wall from the table. This set up meant that Rick and Zack wouldn't see me come back until I was already at the table. And when I was on my way back from the table, before I even turned the corner I heard Zack's voice through the wall.
"Dude you got a nice piece of candy there," I heard Zack say.
I honestly had no clue what he was talking about, and I wanted to know. But for some reason I thought that if I showed back up at the table they would stop talking. So instead, I stopped dead in my tracks and began listening to their conversation through the wall.
"Zack you got the wrong idea," I heard Rick say.
"Oh did I?" Zack asked. "So you haven't been in his pants yet? And dude remember, I know when you lie."
"Dude, I'm not telling you anything about that," Rick said. "It's none of your fucking business."
"I'll take that as a yes," Zack said. "So when do I get a crack at him?"
"Never," Rick said. "And if you don't think you can control yourself today, tell me now so I can take Justin home. I didn't bring him here to show him off to you. You're the best trumpet player I know and I wanted him to see what you do."
"I respect that," Zack said, his voice sounding like he was still thinking of something. "But what's changed?"
"I don't know," Rick said. "But this one's different."
I fully understood what they were talking about. They were talking about me, but more than that Zack wanted to have sex with me. And apparently Rick and Zack had shared sex partners in the past. I wondered why Rick would have a friend like that. At least Rick had seemed interested in me as a person before we had sex. But all Zack knew about me was my name. He had taken no interest in me, he would only look at me from time to time with a little smile. But never once, during the entire time I was sitting at that table along the wall, did Zack ask me a question. I suddenly remembered that Rick had started to try to tell me something about his friend but was interrupted when Zack got in. I began to wonder if that something was a type of warning.
I spent the rest of the morning sitting at the table with Rick and Zack, very uncomfortably as every time Zack would look at me I would feel my stomach turn a little. Finally it seemed as though Rick noticed my discomfort as he abruptly ended the reunion with his friend, saying that he wanted to show me around downtown Boulder some before the festival started.
"Justin are you okay?" Rick asked as we walked through the pedestrian mall.
"Yeah," I said, not wanting Rick to know I had eavesdropped on him and Zack.
"Are you sure?" Rick asked. "Something seemed to be bothering you back at the cafe after you went to the bathroom. Are you sick or something?"
"No," I said, shaking my head.
"Then what is it?" Rick asked, as he stopped in front of a bench underneath a big tree.
"Why are you friends with Zack?" I asked, as I sat down on the bench and looked down at my feet.
"Did you ever hear anyone say that you don't always get to choose your friends?" Rick asked.
"No," I said shaking my head as I looked up at Rick.
"Well, that's kind of what happened to me," Rick said, as he took a seat next to me on the bench. "I wanted to be in a band, Zack had one. I wanted be a drummer, Zack's band needed one. And well the rest is kind of history."
"But he's..." I started to call Zack a pervert but I stopped myself. "Never mind."
"What is it?" Rick asked. "Justin, you can tell me anything."
"He said I'm a piece of candy," I said, that being the part of what I overheard that stuck out the most in my brain. "He wants a crack at me."
"You heard that?" Rick asked, his face going pale.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I was coming back from the bathroom."
"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Rick said. "I'm sure that didn't make you feel very good."
"No it didn't," I say.
"Justin, he'll never do anything to you," Rick said. "I'll make sure of that."
"Thanks," I said. "But did you two used to share people or something, I mean for sex," I said the last part quietly so no one passing by could hear.
"Oh Justin," Rick said, shaking his head a little. "I'll put this way. There's a time in my life that I'm not very proud of now. And that time of my life was when Zack and I were at our closest. So to answer your question, yes we did. But I have no desire to do that anymore, and I would never ever make you do anything you don't want to do."
"I know," I said. "I heard what you told him, that I'm different from the others."
"Well it's true," Rick said, quickly. "Justin, I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I know we haven't known each other very long, but I feel more for you than anyone I have ever known."
"But why?" I asked. "I'm not that special."
"Yes you are," Rick said. "You just don't know it yet."
"I guess," I said, with a little shrug.
"I'll get you to see it," Rick said. "I promise."
"Whatever," I said, shaking my head a little.
It was that day that I started looking at Rick in a different light. All of a sudden he was somebody not only that I could trust to tell things to, but he instantly became somebody I knew would protect me. I never really needed much protection, I kind of lived a sheltered life. But there was a secure feeling knowing that I had another person looking out for me. Maybe the biggest thing I realized that day, was that Rick meant what he told me when he said that he really did care about me. I was something more than a sex object to him, and he was fast becoming much more than the guy that gave me a tingly feeling in my stomach. I was not able to put a finger on it at the time, but Rick was doing something to me. He was making me feel things I had never felt before, and they were quickly becoming less about sex and more about something else. Something I knew very little about.
To Be Continued...
Comments/Feedback welcome: thegoodpen@inbox.com
Chapter 8 Coming Soon!!