I like to think I have given her a purpose,” I said.“I just wanted to meet you, and say thanks,” he said.“Come back anytime,” I said.“Now ...hat I know she is aright. That’s all I wanted. Seeing her is too painful,” he said. Then he shook my hand and left. The man was going and I didn’t even get his name. Mikah knew him and that was enough. I didn’t need to know his name, in order to know him. The name I should have gotten was his wife’s killer. Whoever that was man, woman, or child had debt to. Women were a mystery to him. He did not ask out women often, but when he did the answer was always 'no'. He was not smooth and articulate, the kind of guy that could just walk up to a woman and pull off a conversation. He thought he had a lot to offer, but could never get to know a woman well enough to let her get to know him. Finally, he stopped asking, accepting his life sentence as a lonely loser, a confirmed bachelor without his consent.If only he knew how to talk to women--that was his. He said everything worked, but she just needed sex lessons. She like his treatment and he had made her very sexually excited. She wanted to go back once a week for his special treatment. He continued masturbating her each week and showed her things that stimulated her sexually. She liked this even more. Sex lessons, she called it. He would always give her a special pill at the start of the appointment and then he started showing her about kissing and feeling her body. She kept his treatment. She says she's never met a scar-face before."Half way through the dance I realized what they were doing. It was a conspiracy; my fellow students were monopolizing Debra so I couldn't get near her, let alone dance with her. I could only stand and watch as guys took turns making sure I saw them dancing with her. There was a rule that limited consecutive dances with the same girl to one so it took a coordinated effort to make sure she was always kept occupied with a fresh partner. As soon as she.