“Let’s go back to the same bar again,” she said, her lips red and parted. “I want to find a guy for you.” “For both of us maybe?” I off...red. “Maybe,” she said, “but you first. I ate pussy, so you have to suck cock.” “Can we have both?” “Later, after cock sucking.” There was no arguing with her once she had made up her mind so I resigned myself to going back to the same gay bar, or GLBT, or whatever they called it now. Gay was easy to pronounce, but I could never figure out how to say that. Before Justin's death our home was immaculate all the time. Now meals weren't prepared, dishes were not washed many days, laundry not done, beds not made and I had to take on these tasks after working ten hour days and some weekends. Anne would just sit in a dirty housecoat all day watching inane programs like Jerry Springer on TV. She didn't take care of her personal appearance and her hair became long, dirty and unkempt. The thing that I felt the worse was that she wouldn't be intimate with. More

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