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When the drugs kicked in and he started babbling, heconfessed he made up the whole thing. He confessed he was so turned onby my hose that he would have said or done anything for a chance tocaress my legs. So I let him take his pictures..... No, its a digital,I have it right here. I've been capturing his entire treatment forposterity. When I'm through with this camera, he'll never dare tell asoul, or else he'll end up in his own transvestite porno mag..... "So anyways, I let him take a few dozen pictures of my legs. Hiked upmy dress for him so he could catch a glimpse of the control top of mypantyhose. He was drooling by that time. He had such a boner I'msurprised his zipper didn't pop. So after a while, I ask him if I cantake some pictures of him. By now he's so doped he'd have agreed toanything. So I take a few pictures then tell him his clothes aren'tworking. He needed to take them off. He was naked before I finishedspeaking. So I take a few more pics, and then. And then all your talk about how the Program is a good thing, and you believe in it, and you want to support it. Now that I do NOT understand, but I can understand that you'd be willing to put up with a lot for a cause you believe in, however noodle-brained that cause is."I didn't care for "noodle-brained," but I just nodded. We could have that argument another time.Another sigh. "Even yesterday, when you were smiling and having fun, well, I thought maybe it isn't so bad after you get used to it, and orgasms are nice, and well..."She stopped walking. "Actually, I didn't really get yesterday. It's like it hardly bothered you. But still, you were getting through it, maybe making the best of a bad situation. But today..."She turned to look me in the eye. "You are loving this, F.L. LOVING it! Today you're not fighting with a sore ankle. Today you're kicking ass, winning trophies, you're a movie star and you just ate chocolate."I didn't say anything, because I hadn't thought of it like.
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I let my mind wander to hers and I could just about see the tableau she was imagining. Her two sons. Laughing. Fighting. Whatever little boys and finally grown boys did as they played.Turning my head, I kissed the side of her cheek and sighed. “I miss them too,” I told her with a little sadness in my voice. “It’s been five years and I miss them too.”I was just shy of my twenty-eighth birthday. When I was 23, my Dad and my brother Terry had been sideswiped by a Corvette, going at what must have been at least a hundred, driving them into the solid wall of an overpass and oblivion.Yes, I missed my other half and my Father. Somehow, things were not complete for me from then on. Of course, I was sure my mother was coping with the same feelings.Back then, my total devastation was completed by that tragedy. Just days before that terrible crash, my long term girlfriend June, had told me ‘WE’ were over. She’d latched back onto an old flame from High School, the one who had gotten her pregnant.

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