The woman ended up packing her things up and leaving in the middle of the night. I dreamt about him that night, dreamt about him fucking me instead of...her, dreamt about him and I having a relationship. I loved everything about just him and me together. It was almost perfect. Almost. The weekend went by fast, faster than I had hoped. I didn’t see much of him sadly. * “OUCH!” I screamed, as a pencil hit the back of my head. I looked right at my best friend. She was giggling, making in obvious. It's the closest I've come to complete regret for being a philanderer. That and what I did to Felicity." Tell me what happened," Helen requested.Margie began. "I had this vision of open arms and long hugs and excited chats about everything. And then I confronted Father and his clawing young wench." Denise," Helen finished."We call her Pussycat for the claws and for marking her territory." She told the story of the flirtatious distraction keeping Harold from responding and reading the IM. More

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