“ I bet you've potted the black often enough”, she giggled, raising her skirt with both hands and leaning back against the pool table. The thong ...as a red line between her hairy lips. “ Well big boy?” Stu went at her like a hungry animal, pulling the thong aside and ramming four fingers up her. She was dripping wet, but she moaned at his ferocity. “ Oh yes. Put it in me. I want it up me now”. He stepped backward and she dropped the thong to the floor, leaving it like a red. The only reciprocal love in my life, and only just, and only for a little while. If I think of what I might do when my little one grows up and no longer needs a mother, my mind goes a black place, a place of unimaginable pain. Thing is, once a woman loses whatever she initially brought to the table in a relationship, it’s over. If it was looks and she gets old, the relationship is over. If she was a good listener and now she’s too busy, it’s over. In my marriage I had my looks, my domestic. More

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