This had been a problem for me in the past, at least according to my ex-girlfriends. The biggest problem I had with my girlfriends was the fact I ofte... became interested in other girls. I had no excuse. My excuse was that I was a man and in high school and desirable. This, apparently, made me an asshole. ‘Don’t be an asshole,’ I told my reflection. In return, my mirror-image doppelganger winked back at me. They were still moving boxes when I went outside with my parents to greet them. I could. I stepped behind the stool, taking her hand in mine to lead it. She leaned against me ever so slightly, it took my breath away for a moment to feel the intimacy and closeness of the pose. We dipped the brush together, and I led her through removing the excess paint from the brush before we approached the canvas for a few gentle practice strokes. ‘Now, a light touch is all that’s needed – and loosen your grip on the brush a tiny bit.’ The brush fell into her lap, leaving a bold red stripe on. Allie’s erotic thoughts were interrupted by the car stopping. It looked more like someone’s house rather than a restaurant. If there weren’t several cars in the lot, one would think it was just a house outside of town. The unmistakable odor of steak filled the air. Their dad had heard of this place before. It was called Barney’s and it was a different kind of steakhouse.Instead of having the restaurant cook the customers’ meals, they did it themselves on a big grill in the back of the. That tiny rip felt like a betrayal by one of the few comforts she had in her isolation.She momentarily considered opting for an only slightly less comfortable pair, but shook her head and pulled the folded cotton square out of the drawer. The time would come when that rip would open enough to warrant discarding them, but it wasn’t today.When she unfolded them, her brow furrowed. There was no rip. She must have somehow worn the ripped pair earlier in the week without noticing. As impossible as.