‘He scared you pretty badly, last night and today. Didn’t he?’ Morgan asked, looking at the knife. ‘Yes.’ She all but whispered. ‘Yes. You...have every right to be scared. What that spineless shit did was a very traumatic thing. He attacked you. Plain and simple. He attacked you. But today, you stood up to him. And he left. Correct?’ He spoke slowly and clearly, looking directly at her, his eyes like the strips of iron around the forge. ‘Yes.’ ‘Yes. Hold on to that. The fear will remain awhile,. “Thank You,” was all I could say, stuffing my organ back into the boxers. I once again kept rubbing her back for a little while longer and then finally she sat up on her knees. She grabbed her shirt off the floor and pulled it over her shoulders without buttoning it. She leaned in and gave me a big hug and kissed me on the cheek. "Thanks so much for the great massage. I hope you enjoyed yours too!" With that, she stood up and stood beside me for a moment. Her shirt was hanging open and she held. Between it bein' the first time to hook every thing up and all the chatterin' goin' on it took me 'bout an hour to get ready to head out to the slough.Nope, a shantyboat doesn't sound like much... but it seems there's a lot of poontang 'round these parts that aren't looking for much more than a chance to get out of town for the weekend. They want some peace and quiet, lots of privacy to work on their tan, to be treated nicely... and the ones I know are willin' to treat me nice to be able to get. (That's the initials for "Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.") And it took Moose, Brenda, Connie and me to straighten things out while Homer stayed home and got his dick made happy. He would think with that thing if he could. He sure tries.Anyway, what happened was that Connie had opened bank accounts for all of us and an extra one for "operating expenses" as she called them. That account was for buying food, paying traffic tickets and all the other needful things of life. Then we had retirement.