I knew as aman, as her boyfriend, I should have pushed her. I should have fought tryand help her, the consequences be damned.But I was never much of a...man. I was Ian West, a rather feeble excuse for aman."S-Sorry," I said feebly."Sorry what?" she asked, her voice still hard, almost alarmingly so.I watched her for a moment, a rather pathetic, hang-dog look on her facebefore I muttered, "Sorry mistress." You're damn right," she snapped. I was startled to see tears her in hereyes and once again. She noticed my arms and said, it looks like you work out too i gave her a grin and said everyday. She slid off her heels and then walked over to my desk she said she wanted to take a break and talk a bit, as we were talking i noticed she kept playing with her chest, enough for me to notice she wasn’t wearing a bra or had taken it off. I responded by casually playing with my cock though my pants, now we were on the same page, she reached down and started to rub my cock though my pants. I slid my. .you startled me” “not long..sorry about that” “I should be done in about an hour” “okay I’ll be back in a bit”As I walked back to my office I couldn't stop thinking about Stephanie’s legs, they looked so good wrapped in those black stockings, so smooth and silky looking. After 30 minutes I went back again, this time announcing my presence, Stephanie was twisting her neck, like it was stiff. I put my hands on her shoulders, looking over them at the screen. I didn't know what I was looking at,. I had a few encounters with guyswho wanted more from me than I was comfortable giving, but I waslearning how to deflect them, and avoid those situations almostaltogether. Then the nightmares began. I asked my mother if I could seea therapist about the dreams, and was surprised when she adamantlyrefused to allow it.My mother had changed in those months, almost exhibiting signs of asplit personality. One was the mother I loved and trusted, but theother personality was cold and distant. She had.