Adding together all the jurors who agreed with me, that made one.The prosecutor, Stephen Bishop, had Garrett Crowley, the victim, on the stand explain...ng his near brush with death."Mr. Crowley, please tell us what happened on the afternoon in question." Well, I'll be the first to admit I ain't no angel. I was there with Irene in her bed engaged in relations. We were all like missionaries and I was on top. I don't hear nobody come in and so I'm assumin' we're all alone. All of a sudden, I hear. And your master wouldn't release you for at least ten years. You plan to be out of here in four." That's what college is for." Exactly. College is for getting letters after your name. It has nothing to do with whether you are an artist. You'll come out of here knowing less than any apprentice who managed to get journeyman status and thinking you know it all." I promised my mother I'd get the degree. I don't need it to be an artist." And you expect to learn your craft—no, I'm not talking about. . like trying to race a car without knowing how to drive. We would just be all over each other, just because we could."Neil felt himself getting aroused and clamped down hard. What kind of bastard was he, getting horny listening to a pregnant girl describe her miserable sex life? Of course, it was a young girl frankly describing exploratory sex with her boyfriend, but that was beside the point."If I loved him, maybe this would be easier."Neil had questions, things about her parents or her. Standing in his boxer shorts Kevin gently traced hiswaist from where it looked familiar around his ribcage before pulling inseverely at his waist and then flaring out as his hips came in. Hisstomach was flat and tight, his hips though round and curvy were from awide set pelvis. There was fat, but only enough to round out thechildbearing proportions of his lower body.His hips angled into long thick legs, his thighs gracefully rubbingagainst one another, with firm muscle underneath to give them.