You know she’s happy when she’s with me. Don’t you want her to be happy? Do you like it when she comes crying to you about our relationship?” ...I shook my head. “Then do this for us.” He said, shrugging my grip away from his wrist. “Do your duty as Richa’s best friend.” Saying this he unbuttoned my jeans, slowly sliding my zip down. My breathing grew heavier as he slowly slipped his hand into my panties. I couldn’t stop him. I wanted him as much as he wanted me. I helped him my slowly sliding my. Then Fern changed jobs, and became the editor for Lace, a woman’s magazine. She was so engrossed in her work that she saw less and less of Ron. Her work had consumed her, and slowly she had begun neglecting her relationship with him. Often arriving home late and exhausted from work, when in bed Ron had begun trying to make love with her, she had said, ‘Not tonight darling, I’m too tired.’ She wished she could go back in time and put it right somehow, but she knew that she couldn’t. This. He'd feel ridiculous sporting black dress sock with his sneakers and shorts. He started fishing around in the drawer and that's when he spotted it. In the bottom of the drawer there was a magazine. His fingers clutched it and he pulled it out into full view. The picture on the cover told it all. There was a pretty black girl standing naked except her thigh high striped stockings and a camera with a long lens hanging from her neck. The title was: Players. It was a 'pictorial special edition'. Rather, her water has broken, perhaps from the stress of the sex or that last ass slap, regardless you are drenched from the neck up in amniotic fluid. You push her off of you. ‘Oh my god, what was that?’ you shout in panic. ‘The baby is ready to come out. Can you take me to the hospital?’ ‘Oh my god, the baby’s ready?’ you stammer. ‘Did I cause that? Wait is the baby mine? I was the last one to have sex with you so does that make me the father?’ She stares at you dumbfounded, ‘Are you really.