He wondered if anyone knew what he had done with Darnell and the other two men at his house over the weekend. Darnell was the school security guard. A...twenty-two-year-old, six foot four, African American man. He was friendly, very handsome and he was there to keep the dregs of society away from the students. occasionally, he would walk a bullied student home after an incident. It all started when he was bullied by the football team because he refused to shower. He was so upset that coach. All she knew was that he’d received shrapnel lacerations during a battle, had been unconscious, and his hand was injured. Donna was beside herself, tormented by all sorts of grim thoughts about Mark’s condition, until Mark, himself, called several days later. His right hand had been amputated at the wrist from battle injuries. He said he’d had a concussion and a cut above his eye where a chunk of metal hit him. All his other injuries were relatively minor, according to him, although Donna found. He swung his feet to the cold floor of his small San Francisco apartment and padded his way to the kitchen, ignoring the sharp cries of his cat, Bart, upset at being woken at such an odd hour of the night. ‘No use trying to fall back asleep now’ Andrew whispered to partly to himself, and partly to the cat. He did this frequently, and knew that even if sleep failed to evade him, the dreams would only come back again. He flipped the coffee maker switch, and sat down in front of the computer in. .. shiny." Heh, strange. You know what this is, right?" I handed her the lube, but she didn't take it. Instead, what she did surprised me. She placed her hand on my arm and slowly looked up into my eyes. Her eyes were a deep aquamarine, and seemed to be slightly wet, perhaps from tears. I stiffened up, confused, my cock still bulging out from my jeans."I ... I've always wondered what you thought of me ... Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked, on the verge of tears.I hesitated. My eyes moved down.