His little bro was like that too, same as his dad, or at least the photos I’d seen of Mr. Potts. Like too many of the dads in my hood, he’d moved ...n long before his kids had grown, leaving Mrs. Potts to work too many hours trying to put food on the table, getting old before her time. That’s why Twiman did what he did. Trying to be the man of house. Not an easy thing when you’re a punk ass kid. Now, though, that kid had grown up hard into a fine looking specimen of a man. “Hey yo, Blondie.” I. Despite my shock and initial alarm at the developments, I was as hard as a rock. “Do I really have to wait for an answer Steve?” ********* It was now almost 3.30 in the morning and Alison still had not returned home. She had left at 7.30 the previous evening and had promised to call me at some point and let me know how things were going. I was going off my head now with a mixture of concerns for her welfare, annoyance and utter lust. Why had she not called; what was she up to right now; was she. More

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