For a moment, I want everyone to see what a dirty slut I am.I crawl to him, on my hands and knees, and clutch at his pants before he can close the doo.... "Daddy?," I say, my voice carrying into the hallway with ease, "please use me. I didn't touch myself at all. I waited for you. Please."He casually strokes my hair as he closes the door. "Good bitch," he says. "You're such a whore, I didn't think you could do it. It was hard, wasn't it?"Daddy has a confident way about him. He's not showy or. . since I was last with you. I guess I ... I don’t think I’ve even masturbated since ... Oh, God!”I broke down crying. I knew since when. It was in Oregon before I wrote that fucking scene. I kept pounding out words in the story. I kept finding more and more pain to write about and less sex. Even my readers were getting bored with Living Next Door to Heaven. And every day was bringing me closer to the moment that chapter would post.It didn’t help that I was down on the Oregon coast when I wrote. Twenty thousand men. Brigadier Markos told me to tell you that they are also all armed with rifles. I was told to report at once and return with orders. Brigadier Markos is retreating in good order and regrets that he could not hold the crossing longer."The Captain-General shook his head in wonder. "Only Markos would even think of trying to stop twenty thousand with one thousand. You will return to the brigadier in a moment." He beckoned to one of his sergeants who came and leaned close.. ”“Put down your phone. Okay, yes, Quigley, we converse about a variety of subjects, including fruits and vegetables. Admittedly, our one-on-one coffee shop discussions after the club meeting ends are the highlight of my month. We went for hours last time.”“I didn’t get home until long after midnight.”“I was wiped out, but I woke up happy.”“Every time you and I sit together, with my mug empty and my heart full, there are countless words I want to say, but I won’t let myself.”“Tell me.