Do you need to know my sizes? Why? I'm not filling in a profile on Match.com, what the fuck, I'm 34B, and everything is real and in proportion now fig...ure the rest out for yourself.OK, so why am I writing this down, I think it's because I want to get stuff straight in my head, because things need to change or I'm going to have to do something drastic, like jump in front of a train, or off the top of a multi-story carpark.I'm not some kind of suicidal Emo, I don't go for that self-harming shit,. She told us that she and dad had decided to divorce because she didn't really like men. She was a lezzian or something, and only wanted to make love to other girls. She said that dad didn't know that when they both got married, and she had kept the secret as well as she could, but that one day dad had come home early and caught her with Cherry, Debbie's mom, from next door. They were on the bed kissing each other's pussies." Holy shit!" I said. "Mom is a lesbian?" Yes, that was the word. Then. Roger had been her only lover. After the wedding, though, Mark had disappeared for several months, and since then she'd had only a few phone calls from him. It occurred to her how glad she was to see him.She smiled. "What in the world are YOU doing posing for pictures like these? I thought you were making big bucks at that Tech thingy place you were working at."Roger smiled back. "I am. I just thought it would be a hoot to do something like this. I also thought I might meet a girl and get to. She had tried on one of my wigs years ago and admitted that she felt more liberated sexually when she was blonde. As there was only one wig at my disposal, I assumed that the other was packed inside her luggage, somewhere between the UK and Gran Canaria. I'd raked through Sue's make-up to do my face and ravaged the dirty laundry basket for her underwear. My preference for her soiled undergarments far exceeded the contents of her tidy underwear drawer and the black bra, pants and black tights.