Today we have two kids that are grown and out of the house. I suspect that CJ has had several adulterous relationships in the time we have been togeth...r, but I do believe both our children are my offspring. CJ likes to tell me stories about her and other men she has been with as we have sex. After sex she laughs it off and says the stories are not true, nothing more than just her imagination intended to enhance up our sex life. Over time the stories have changed very little except to add more. They can all die and go back to hell. She could think that because she made it this long. The air was cool. And dry. Nothing like home she thought. Nothing at all like that fucking shit hole. At least here for her she felt distance from that place, and what had happened there. She felt her heart jump as the distant howl of some distance monster broke the silence of the night. Just breathe and think of Sticks. Sticks was still alive being a big dumb brute and slobbering over everything back. My role in life has actually never felt so normal. The constant degradation and sexual humiliation that she forces me to endure is so perfect. It ensures that my sexual state of being remains desperate. The verbal abuse that she so beautifully lays upon me is always intense and this, coupled with her having so expertly denied me an orgasm for nearly four months, serves wonderfully to keep me in my painful bliss. This is something that she knows only too well, something that we both enjoy so. And everybody knew that. So everybody knew exactly who the water tower was referring to.And you’d have thought that people would be saying things like, “Too bad about that.” or “That was a terrible thing they did to you and your sister,” or some other thing that indicated they agreed it was a miserable rotten thing to put on a water tower.But you’d have been wrong. Everybody thought it was funny, or cute or some such thing. Mr. Miller down at the feed store said, “Well, at least you picked the.