*Fuck. Shit. Bollocks.I considered going after my sister. But what would I say? Sorry for jerking off into your pants?Sorry for being a perverted litt...le shit?Oh god.I spent a few agonising hours in my bedroom. I felt safe and maybe I could stay in there forever. Or maybe I should plan on where to go when Dad kicks me out later. I got like £50 in savings.Fuck.My anxiety shot through the roof when I saw my parent’s car pull onto the drive.Mum was going to make dinner and it wouldn’t be long. He was a famous porn star and did not want to die without having a good fuck.A week before his death, he was feeling better than usual and gained a great deal of strength.There was a pretty nurse who tended to his every need and what Mr. Morgan liked the most, was his bath.He was a still a very handsome man at the age of fifty-one.His looks did not fade and his sexual desires for woman was as pronounced as his days as a porn star.It was the morning before his next chemo therapy when Margo began. She rarely dated, didn’t seem to like men all that much owing to the bitter divorce, and just hadn’t found anyone worth bedding, or so she said. Beth knew of course, she is her best friend, but I was clueless.“Yes, it’s been awhile, that’s for sure,” said Susan, a bit tipsy by now, as I looked on in astonishment, and also checking out her incredible legs in her little white skirt, all supple, tanned and muscular beneath the usual sags and wrinkles of a woman her age. “How…I mean…don’t you…uh…”. The training of map-reading and astral navigation would be left to the Prof and Cookie could be left to explain the intricacies of explosives and how to exist in the field. But the question of weapons, where to get them, what was available, figured most in his mind.Yasmine dropped him off outside his home as she continued to the hospital block. He dropped his overnight bag on the bed then stripped and entered the shower. Thirty minutes later he entered the living room and poured out a drink for.