A belt buckle clinked. Bed covers shhhed. A bump on the wall right next to Michael's ear. Then more breathing. The old man sounded like he was wearing...a damn snorkel. The bed sounded like a rickety car over a bumpy country road.It wasn't going to be long. It never is. As the noise stopped, the old man sighed. One more bump on the wall and he rolled over. As usual, Michael stroked himself under his sweatpants as he listened to them having sex. Then, as the house grew still, he heard her whisper. ”“It won’t be long now.”We rode halfway across Missouri in relative silence before pulling in to the same Colony Inn we’d used last year. We piled into three rooms with Cindy and her mom in one and the other six of us split between two rooms with two queen beds. Our agreement with the videographers, of course, indicated they’d have private rooms. Laura and Leon weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend so it wasn’t like they could share. It would be a lot more casual when we got to the faire, since we’d. More

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