“So when did you last see her? A week ago? And when did you last talk to her? OK, that must have been from Nikki’s house because she left here yes...erday morning.” Mike paused, listening to Jim, but staring into space as he rehearsed the question again and again. “Look, Jim, you don’t have to answer this, but I really need to know. Have you ever slept with her?” he paused, analysing the reply. “And do you think anyone could have photographed you while you, er...” But Mike never heard the answer.. She told me they wouldn't be leaving for a couple of hours. I didn't know if the part about Tim not being home was true but I was intrigued and invited her in. She was looking all gussied up. She was wearing a short red number that matched her lipstick and the dress must have been 6 or 7 inches above her knees. I was wondering how she was going to set down with it and I soon found out. Here was Sharon Stone sitting on my sofa. It was hard not to stare and I wondered if she had anything on. That was fine at first but I wanted to be as perverted as I could with my hour of total privacy. See back then, growing up in a small town before internet, I was sure that nobody masturbated as much as me and I would do it as much as possible just to be sure but I wanted go further so one day I took one of my moms tampons and inserted it in my ass. Surprisingly I got an instant boner! Wow I thought, I must be the most bizarre k** on the planet. I had a girlfriend at the time ,but always had gay. The hustle and bustle, the neverending traffic, the plethora of people upon the sidewalks… Everyone seems to have someplace to go, someone to meet, someone with whom to share the night. The city is alive, its sounds and its lights evidence of humanity, of companionship. Taking another sip from his mug, he looks to the north. Even the sky is full of life, evidenced by the dual lines of airplanes dipping from the thick cumulonimbus clouds on final approach, delivering untold numbers of people to.