lyonelightgraytieswasleftonmybody,stilltoradiatethelustfulnesssexyofstnight.

    Nowthereisnockexceptaman,andthereisnockbutadick.Lastnight,Istillhaveitall.

    ThesedaysareverybandIdon’tknowwhatI’mtryingtodo.AfterI’mawake,Istarttorecallmypastandmyfuture.

    Past,allmist.

    Future,sometimesIsiderpningtostudyabroadaftergraduation,andtiodothesameforeveryoneasahappysugarbaby,thensugardy,thensugarmilfinanewenvirowhichthereisnopersonthatknowme.

    YesterdayIwasnotocoofy,butmybodyisverybusy,nomorehandshitthekeyboardThetimeformakinglovedoesnotallowmetoleaveforwriting.

    IwentoutierdayeveningandthenIcamebaoontoday.

    WhenIamonmywayofgback,smokingoreeterwheredidn'tbotherpeople.Ifoundthereisamanpassingbymeandlookingatme.Whyyouhavethecelookingatme,butnetoae.

    Afewdaysago,Ifoundthatmyathadbeenaddedabankerwardsmyliwokeup.HecalledmeforingoutandsayingthatIwouldbemoldyifIstillstayandhidemyselfinmysmallroom.

    IcameoutandstillsawhimontheerofthestreetandIgotintohiscar.Theairditionermakemefeelingabitcold.

    "How'sgoing?"

    "Justsoso."

    "Whyhaveyouhideyourselfintheroom?"

    "I'mwriting."

    "Whatweirdpapers?ohandinwhenerstartordidnotfinishtheworkofstschoolyear?"

    "No,I'mwritingnovel."

    "Writenovel?Lovestory?"

    "iovels."

    "Wow,erotiovels,yettingmoreandmoredifferent.yougivemetoread?"

    "Youwillreadittoday."

    "Willyouwritemein?"

    "Notnecessaril

    y."

    Hesmiledatmeanddrovemefordinner.