Decomposed--so a long time in thewater. Face and hands that could help identification--eaten away. Suspectedsuicide (that means there was nothing weig...ing the body down, or nothingsuspicious anyway, and no marks of violence), so it must have been foundfloating or washed up, mustn't it?--because there wasn't any search--theyweren't looking for it. And this is the clincher: found in the river notfar from home."Emma looked puzzled. "Why is that odd? If Dad killed himself, or waskilled," she added. My head was spinning; there were so many conflicting thoughts and feelingsgoing through my head. I was feeling confused and shocked. I was sittingfacing the mirror with a sense of disbelief.The girl in the mirror couldn't be me. Yet when I moved, she moved, Ibrushed my hair gently behind my ear and the girl in the mirror did thesame. How could my mother and sister do this to me?I was a boy; at least I thought I was. The image in the mirror told mesomething else; the image was that of a very. I had told my wife that I had met him earlier having coffee and we became “coffee buds”.It was exciting for him to meet her; knowing that he jacks off all time soaking the crotch of her panties with his seed while seeing her not only naked in pictures but doing all kinds of nasty things to my cock. Last week this new found fetish went a little further when the lawyer met me in a restaurant parking lot to show me a video he made of himself jacking off onto my wife's sexy little blue bikini. I had one set of sheets, cheap, permanent press and (I kid you not) an ugly brown plaid. At least they were durable; they lasted until the day after I got married.I'd throw my dirty clothes in the closet until I ran out of clean ones. When I was done with my laundry I'd spread it on my bed, usually because I didn't have enough quarters for the dryer. When I went to bed I'd dump the damp clothes on the floor, where they'd begin their journey to the closet.Fifth, I was allergic to cats. We.