Every false memory stung him as he emerged from it. He shudderedin disgust remembering how it had felt to be so weak, so insignificant.All of his life...he had been strong, been admired and looked up to. To beplunged into such a thing. Worse still, a thing that was not even a manat all; just playing at being one. Stealing an identity it had no rightto claim. The revulsion at every detail of that thing's life that he hadexperienced made his skin crawl with disgust. But even as the memoriesmade him. We looked at each other. We both knew what the other was thinking. She grinned the grin that says “Can we?”. By the time he came back downstairs, she was kneeling over me on the couch, skillfully rolling her tongue around the end of my penis while I babbled something about inviting him to join us or something – I can’t remember exactly what I said because he agreed inside 2 seconds.From this point on, my memory is jumbled. A highlight reel of joyous abandon and giggling depravities. We undress. More

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