He doesn’t care about me. He just wants my money so he can buy his wife a fucking jet ski or liposuction or whatever. I was fuming. I angrily ripped...my panties off. I had to release some of this frustration. I rubbed my hands up and down my body, closing my eyes and let my breathing slow. I pushed up my sleep shirt and felt my breasts and tugged on my nipples just a little. I will NOT think about Dr. Moore tonight, I scolded myself. But who could I fantasize about then? I thought about my old. ”“Are you sick? Did the plane crash? No, did it have to land somewhere else?” Even Mama could figure out that she wouldn’t call about a plane crash. The hospital maybe, the morgue more likely, but not her.“I’m in good health and in Evanston, incompatible as those two are.”“Then what’s wrong?” This was the woman who complained she didn’t call home often enough.“Listen for once!”“I’m listening.”“Y’know how you always ask about my romantic life? Well I’m now engaged.”“Do I know him? Is this your. More

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