Or being fucked in the arse makes you feel more … vulnerable. Jan laughed and said I was finally over what That Turd had done to me, which didn’t...make any fucking sense. (That Turd was what she called my ex. She said he was too crap to have a real name.) I started to go for the door, to run out to the HOG. But then I felt worried. He wasn’t on his Harley Davidson Fat Boy and he was dressed in a fucking suit and tie. (Some kind of shimmering pale grey. I have to say, it looked fucking fine on. I went to my office to get my laptop before returning to the back porch. I always took time on Sunday’s to check my email. Gina opened the back door to see if I was interested in joining them for a movie in the den. I told her to go ahead and I’d be in after while. I had been checking my email for about an hour or so when I received an IM from Gina telling me Becky was getting playful and I was welcome to watch or join in. I replied that was I was on my way. I logged off and closed up my laptop. More

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