Will backs away, still looking at me. I wink at him and close the door. Over the course of the night, I deliver six more cellophane bags full of treat...invitations to salivating dads. Finally, the flow of trick-or-treaters slows to a trickle, then stops for the night. I take a deep breath, congratulate myself on a job well done, pour myself a vodka lemonade, and curl up with a book while I wait for the visitors that I’m sure will come. At 11:15, the doorbell rings. I open it to find Paul. I also would love to have some feedback on my story, so please go on the forum to tell me what you think about it.]Somewhere in France, in a small provincial town, a young man named Charles Dupont wakes up with a start. He looks at alarm clock. Only 3 AM. Another bad dream, like every night. Turning on the light, he examines the surroundings. The shitty apartment is still the same: only 9m², a metallic bed with a hard uncomfortable mattress, some wood shelves and other arrangements, a real tiny. I didn’t know what I had found at the time, until I started to browse through them. I had grabbed a Penthouse and a Hustler. Needless to say, I had many a great masturbation session with those magazines. A few months later, I went back to look for some new material and I grabbed a couple more Hustlers. While I was leafing through one of them, I found some Polaroid photos marking a picture series. One of the photos had my brother sitting in a chair with a nude woman sitting in his lap. The. That was ‘it.’”I was skeptical. We’d decided at dinner that night to get serious. She showed me a calendar on her iPhone and exactly fourteen days had passed since she’d stopped the pill. She’d had her normal period and this was our first serious try at fertilization. No one got pregnant on their first serious try, except by accident when they were teenagers and just starting to experiment with sex. I was proven wrong.I came home from work one night in late January, and Elsa was there with some.