.."Spit it out, what's going on?"By now of course I went by Jim. No one, and I mean no one called me Jimmy any more. Even mom had quit calling me by t...at name the day I turned sixteen and informed everyone ... mom and dad especially, I wasn't a little boy any more, and that Jim, not Jimmy was the name I would answer to. The only one who did ... still did, and who could honestly get away with it was Dee. To her, I'd be Jimmy no matter how old I was.It was as though Dee knew my thoughts before I. I finally gave in and made an account a few months ago. I've been chatting with a few men, who are fairly local to me. There are two of them who I really hit it off with. One is married and his wife is the typical I have a headache, don’t touch me kind. The other man is recently divorced and just wants the comfort of a woman through sex, without throwing in emotions too. I tell myself I should just pick one, but then thought, why? I plan to meet both of them. They know about each other, and. "If you want to sober up, or want to grab another drink you two are welcome to come back to the room with me". It just sort of came out, I really hadn't thought through exactly what I was offering. I had made similar offers to single women in the past, but in those situations it was pretty clear to me where the night would go.They gave each other a glance and Mike said they would think about it and let me know. Shortly after I excused myself to go to the bathroom, when I returned Mike did. He looked appreciatively at the woman who, a this moment did not look like a woman, or at least not like a thirty something mother of a thirteen year old.Eyes demurely downcast, Rachael drew back her shoulders to better show off her recently acquired DD bosom. Then, timidly, she looked at the man sitting on the futon."Mom said I was supposed to come see you, Reverend Gibson?" Come over here, Rachael." Damn. She almost looked like a little girl with the tight sweater and short skirt, standing.