Our affair was brief but intense. We were eighteen, and these were days of cutting class and going back to our parents’ empty houses to fuck in the...simple, clean manner of b**sts. She was so innocent and direct, simply hungering to be fucked, with no pretense or practice. She was so happy to just lie back and be stuffed full of my cock, and it was easy and free of meaning. But then, we grew up. She met a guy, then another guy, then her husband. She had k**s, built a life, drifted off. I did. I made the deal putting me in prison just so I would not have to face her. It was not a brave thing to do and any attempt to convince myself that I did it for them was false. I knew better. I knew the truth. I was afraid to face her. I was afraid she would tell me she didn't love me and that she wanted more than I was able to give her. I was afraid she would tell me that she loved that son of a bitch I almost killed, so I cut her out of my life. Ruben was a casualty of that fear: if he came,. More

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