Janet had a foul mouth, and put most guys to shame on the many holidays students used as excuses for binge drinking. Flossie ignored her, having heard... her express herself in this manner more often than not. ‘Let’s see if you can get us around campus one more time without screwing up the gears.’ ‘Hey, I’ve done it twice now, what the fuck do you want from me?’ ‘Perfection, girl, I want no grinding of gears, that’s all. Is that so . . . fucking much?’ she added thinking the foul language would. Hell, she even went down on me in my cubical on a lunch break once. But sex became a once a week, to once a month, to a once a year thing. Now it had been just over three years, since my dick had been inside her. This was regular now. Rolling back over I looked out the crack in the curtains towards the dark hills beyond our place. Small lights gave the hillside a festive feel. It was only a few days until Christmas. The joyous holiday to be spent with loved ones. I don’t think she loves me. Helen knew Christen had the advantage of already being on the man’s radar. The towhead knew that giving their quarry a secondary target could only enhance their game. She made sure her skirt hem rode high enough to reveal her panty crotch as she sat in the seat.Christen was already in the game before they even found seats. Dropping a book as she climbed the steps into the bus, the coed had to bend forward to collect it, giving the bus driver a full view of her bosom. Her breasts hung like. That is part of her thrill,her need. And, to tell you the truth, being humiliated and laughed at, isnot fun. Even if no one knows that you, a man, are wearing a bra underyour sweatshirt, you know it. You feel it. You know that your wife,mother, sister, daughter, girlfriend has made you wear it. You can't getover your shame. But you can get used to it. You can come to a pointwhere the shame and the humiliation become part of you and of what youwant. That point has come over this past year.I am.