He had gained thirty pounds in prison. Horace refolded the slacks. ‘Was me, I’d keep ’em. You’ll lose some weight once you’re out. Give you...self something to shoot for . . . getting back into those pants.’ ‘I’m leavin’ the past behind. Keep ’em for yourself.’ Horace admired the slacks then looked sadly at Marty. ‘Aw, you know I can’t. I’ll pass’m along to one of the guys, you want. Or give’m to Goodwill.’ ‘Whatever.’ Marty went back to staring at his clothes. His suitcase was a rumpled. . The morning passed uneventfully. Morons needed babysitting. Morons got babysat. Requests came in. Requests went out. All things I much rather would have been doing at home in pajamas with either a game or some porn on my personal computer to liven things up a bit. I squirmed in my chair. I would definitely rather have some porn in the background. After a few weeks of working alone at home, I suspected I had Pavlovian conditioned my cock to expect some personal attention every morning. Even. More

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