I looked back down at the screen and my girlfriend was now pushing a vibrator into her pussy. Christa stood up on the bed then removed her t-shirt, b...a, shorts and panties. Even though I had now seen her naked just yesterday, I enjoyed watching her remove every item from her body. She sat back down and resumed rubbing herself and me at the same time while continuing to watch Clare. Then I felt the waist band of my boxers lifting off my waist. I felt Christa’s hand reach in and grab a hold. I, in strange, theatrical madness cursed her for her lack of love profession, for loving my face, my hair, my strong, powerful body, but not that crude disgusting thing lurking in my pants. That silent, grotesque lump of God-given clay yet to be molded, for all hope, to die in the dust with the humming of the cortex, those strange fibers of consciousness wrestling angsty teenage love, my sweet Kimberly… she’d dated someone I’d thought my friend. Society’s law kept me from killing him. I would. More

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