When was I going to get off my ass and start making mine again?Damn, she looked good. She glanced across at me, her big brown eyes in that perfect fac..., framed by hair that swayed with her movements, her brown lips wrapped tight around his stiff pasty white rod.It was, as always, fantastic and terrible. Beautiful, like an avalanche, but terrible, knowing I was standing helpless in its path.That woman, who I needed to stop loving, was blatantly betraying me, rubbing my face in it, daring me to. Maybe two. Me, I usually came home about eight, exhausted and tired. I ate a light supper and headed to bed. What else was there for me to do? On the weekends, I helped with Sam's subjects in math and business. Other than that, things were the same; no sex and tired all the time, but I knew that I could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel. Little did I know that that light was the damn train that derailed my life, rather than the end of the tunnel.Things progressed well, or maybe not so. More

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