This bit of amateur dramatics hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Come on Marcy. What do you think you’re playing at?” Tom asked as he waited impatiently...outside their room. “You don’t think he’s going to be interested in you, do you?” “The pig,” Marcy thought to herself. “The fucking pig. It’s not as if I’m over the hill yet.” “No harm done,” Jake replied for her. “It must be a bit difficult walking in heels that high. Not that I’ve ever tried.” Marcy straightened herself up and they caught up with. That Sunday morning it was definitely skin. Since I didn’t feel a penis, or boobs, he or she had to be sleeping turned away from me. I don’t really mind being held, and I don’t mind not being held, what I mind is not knowing who is holding or not holding me. Before I made an ass of myself, I tried to remember what had happened the night before. I remember Jen’s stupid party, and I remember the Cop Out. I even remember the invitation by Anya. So odds were good that I was in the fancy bed and. More

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