I am you. Emma bumped into him when he stopped near the theater. Her hand slipped easily into his. He nearly shook it off, but he decided it felt good...and left it there. He rationalized it would be better to look after her if they were close to each other and you couldn’t get much closer than holding hands. How cute. He felt like his head was going to explode. He needed drugs, but he couldn’t tell her that. If the voices didn’t stop soon, though, he would do something. Something bad. That. C was having a tough time keeping his eyes on the TV and, after the third or fourth time I caught him staring at my breasts, he gave me a sheepish grin and suggested we play some billiards in the den while we waited for Nate to get home.Still smiling at the dilemma I was creating for him, I said, “Sure, Mr. C”, and followed him over to the pool table.As he bent over to rack the pool balls, I noticed that a tent was developing in his boxer shorts. Trying not to be obvious, I couldn’t help but. More

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