How can you not like a guy called Duke “The Dumpster” Droese, whose character was a garbage man. When it was over, I went back to the kitchen, sit...ing down at the table and waited.Mom finally came into the kitchen and sat down. “So, what is this all about?”There was that attitude that just screamed this whole thing is pointless and unnecessary. It was dripping with sarcasm and disdain.“Well, I can see this is probably not going to go well. Though I’ll reserve judgment until this conversation is. Do I really want to do this or not? Hell, I still love her; I have to go."Honey, what's wrong?" You're hurt and I have to go most of next week to a conference up in Dallas. I have to leave Sunday and I won't be back until sometime late Thursday evening. I'm going to miss you like crazy and with you here at home all hurt and everything, I should stay with you, but I have to go. It's my job to go to these things, I hate it, but I have to go. I hope you understand." Honey, if it's your job, then. Gently touching and holding between each finger. Analyzing every single line and indention and kissing them lightly. I stare deep into your eyes pulling you close to me, I kiss you on your cheek and whisper “Daddy, I want you to fuck me till you cum deep inside of me.” I glide my hand down your chest and clutch your thick, juicy tool. I kiss you on your cheek again and wait for you to kiss my lips then we passionately kiss and kiss while you play with my hair, moving them out of my face and. I lay there, for how long I do not remember, just basking in how happy I am that I’m finally done for the day. My head hurts, that ache you get with sustained sleep deprivation, most acutely by the long night, but compounded by the chronic sleep deprivation before this. My mental faculties are, well, not anywhere near their peak. I feel, weaker, somehow. Physically, of course, yes, but mentally I just feel unable to fight. I am not my usual peppy, energetic self. My stomach aches and growls at.