I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel. I had already prepared my darling’s sleepy-time present. Enough to keep her down at least th...ee hours. I made my way through the dining room, careful to stay out of the light from the living room in case she happened to be in there. Nope, the coast was clear. What the fuck is that!!!! races through my head as I step on the cat. I fucking hate that cat, always have. I slowly moved into the hallway. I could see that one of the bedroom doors. His head slowly turned as he removed the cigar from his lips. Again the buzzer sounded. Rosangela stood before the call box and again pressed the button with the author’s name beside it. She glanced at the heavy metal doors then back to the call box. Her eyes narrowed as they stared at the author’s name. Was he pissed about her abrupt departure? She took a step back, eyes darted to the doors but there came no sound of the lock. Her lips puckered with frustration as she crossed her arms tightly. That's why I could take what I could of Mr. Marcus as easily as I could. But that fucking with Mel and my friend made me realize maybe I should explore more of this side of me. And my new realized femininity only fueled my desire. Of course, I had no desire to cheat on Mel. I did love her. She was the person I most felt comfortable with sexually. And we just got along well and made a good couple.But I found myself only looking at interracial porn and masturbating when Mel wasn't around. I would. They plunged the continent into war on the flimsiest of pretexts, and isn't it amazing how many wars have been started with the flimsiest of pretexts or outright lies, and people never quite seem to catch on, instead being caught up in Patriotic fervor that the rulers use to lead them blindly into war.The grandest war of history started all so slowly from the perspective of one living in New York; an assassination, recriminations, bluffs, harsh words, then the gradual mobilization. As I read.