Everybody knew it. A wedding portrait of him and his wife stood in pride of place on the desk in his small office. He’d catch me looking at it somet...imes and he’d always give me the same vaguely unsettling line.“She was a mistake.”Some mistake. I glanced at the airport bar again. The same woman? It must have been. She had blonde hair, at least, and looked tall enough. But had I ever really believed him? Did it matter? I hadn’t promised to be loyal to her. Harry was the bad guy. Not me. It was. You look at my eyes, glazed over as if in a waking dream. You see my chest rising and falling with my excited breathing. You see my fist sliding unhurriedly backwards and forwards along the length of my cock. It is as stiff and engorged as you have ever seen it, the veins on the shaft standing out in stark contrast to the dark smoothness of the head. You wonder briefly at the unnaturalness of what has happened. Of you being so excited by a woman’s touch. Of you showing yourself to another man.. "Do you have your agenda?" "Yeah, it's in my bag," I said uncertain. "Okay, just wanted to make sure. Do you know why I wanted to see you after class?" he asked me. Great, I was going to get in trouble. "No...did I do something?" I asked. "No...not yet at least," he smirks. I somewhat cock my head to the side. I have had a raging crush on him since I was in his English class last year, so I liked being alone with him. Despite my personal feelings, however, I still felt. I asked him where Celia was and he told me that she had left him. Apparently, they had quarrelled and she went out and found herself drunk and in bed with another man. She came home and told him but he just could not forgive her, she didn’t even try to make up after the tiff. After a few weeks, my brother, even though he still came over for dinner a couple of times a week, admitted that he had been lonely living alone. I thought about it and then asked him if he would like to move in with me as.