A crowd materializes out of thin air, like ants around a fallen chunk of cherry popsicle (even Aristotle believed in spontaneous generation). Tall and...athletic, broad-shouldered and muscular, an ex-ballplayer in the minor leagues of one professional team or other (the St. Louis Cardinals? the Cleveland Indians?), he won't be cheated, so he cheats. I catch his eye from beneath the blindfold he's managed to partially slip to the side as he strides purposely and unerringly forward, takes up that. I really struggled with should I or not. I figured I would just sort of see initially if they were for real. A few of the first ones were just come-ons to join a nation-wide listing service. I began to receive numerous annoying e-mails, all just trying to sell me some membership. I was ready to give up when I got a response from a couple that lived in a nearby city. They were about thirty miles away. I e-mail chatted back and forth with the wife a few times and she actually seemed normal.. ‘Good morning, darling! It’s very late, and I thought you’d like breakfast in bed – and me to go with it!’ She untied the apron and threw it aside, running her hands over her naked body as she had done the previous evening, and crossed to my bed and kissed me. ‘You said you wanted me naked, darling,’ she murmured, and I squeezed her breast. She laughed. ‘Eat your breakfast first, dearest!’ She sat on the side of my bed and watched me as I started to eat, and I saw her slip her hand between her. Last thing I'd need was another lecture about how degrading porn was to women and how she wouldn't stand for it under her roof. I'd get another tedious lesson on toxic masculinity and why guys suck and all that BS. If I objected, she'd start panicking that I was getting red-pilled by Joe Rogan or something.I needed to move out, but football took up all my time and my scholarship didn't provide me room and board. So I was stuck at home like a fucking loser with two snooping cunts of little.