Getting high. Traveling. Working. On everything but your writing.”“I’m...”“You’re directing your work. I get it. But...”“But what?”�...��I get this image of a writer. Like a hermit wearing some beat up smelly robe. Because no one’s around to care what you smell like. Swigging coffee and smoking cigarettes. Typing away incessantly. Because you’re caught up in your work. Your mind manifested on the page. And that’s all that matters. Giving into your words. Nothing else matters.”“Yeah.”“It’s a solitary. ..my father left me alone, never touched me, even though I was climbing all over him when I was five, six, seven, eight........I knew he got boners from it, and I liked to tease him to see if I could make him get one and I taught this to Rachel.................but he never........he was the coolest dad in the world .......I caught him and mom fucking once............and that was exciting................but I heard them a lot more than that...........they really loved each other and they had sex. So I put a listing under the personals section and I figured I would at least look for some female companionship (shhh, don't tell my wife) for the concert. I wasn't looking to get lucky or anything, as a matter of fact, I said that in the ad, that I was just looking for a female "friend" to attend the concert with, dinner and the tickets were on me, and I just wanted someone who liked the band and was nice to talk to. Then I waited.The next day I had three or four responses when I checked my. .. or maybe she had never slept naked since she was a small child. It had felt so liberating. The fact that she was in bed with her son, who was also naked, made it seem so wicked and quite exciting. She looked out at the overcast skies and the pouring rain and wondered what they were going to do today since it didn't appear that the rain was going to stop. Then she smiled and thought of Andy, knowing what he would want to do. She sighed as the now familiar tingle went though her pussy. As.