It’s not my fucking job! You’re so screwed up in the head, it just makes loving you impossible. I’m done.’ Those where the last words he ever ...aid to me when he walked out of my front door, out of my life. I sighed to myself, holding back a broken sob. It’s been a month and I still haven’t gotten over him. How could I? I thought he was the one. The one that would love me bullshit and all. The one that would love me despite my issues. But I guess he’s right. Maybe they do make it impossible to. This year she declared she was leaving before Thanksgiving whether dad had a replacement or not. Fran was the only person who had appeared that could even remotely handle the job.We talked about it that evening. "Kenny, I would love to have this position and working with you."I looked at her and could see she was undecided about accepting. "There is a, "but" in there somewhere, I take it?" Yes, there is. I was with Mrs. Billings all afternoon. Mrs. Billings hinted at something, but never came. It was all he coulddo just to peel his square tipped French manicured nails from his faceand accept what he had allowed to be done to him, as he stared at hishair a good four shades lighter and quite golden blonde now.He stretched his fingers, trying to compose himself, amazed at how theydressed up the pink French manicure with a small aqua and hot pink lineinside the tip, as every detail from head to toe would not be missed.He was now made up exactly like the other girls, with bright hot. I waited until the water went off and headed out of the room. I heard my friend call to get him another beer. I opened the bathroom door as Sarah stepped out of the shower. I stepped in and closed the door. She looked at me while drying off and said she was surpised I did not come in sooner. I knew she could see the bulge in my jeans. I looked over her nice tits and shaved pussy. I told her that I had half a mind to fuck her right there. She walked up to me and said she would not fuck me there,.