Not that I wouldn’t, but he would be a non-starter as he was working. He is a good-looking native kid, maybe in his early twenties at the most.Then,...at a corner table, I saw one of the guys from the beach yesterday. I remembered the tent in his swim shorts when he saw me purposely be a voyeur at the beach…just maybe. Then, what I assumed was his wife, sat down. Shit!But he did see me…I could see a glint in his eye, and a small acknowledging smile.I turned slightly, knowing that one of my tits. I figured that since she understood me we might get along and things couldget back to normal. I had no intention of sneaking into her things everagain and told her so directly and figured that if I minded her I could beTim and not be punished by being forced to be Melissa any longer! She giggled slightly then mentioned that since my new room was all done upand already furnished I wouldn't have to sneak into her bedroom anymoreanyway! I figured since she let me wear my T-shirt and jeans that. ”She sounded so much like her sister. But this wasn’t Birgit, of that I was certain. I also knew that I had to keep control of my emotions and carefully consider my options. Firstly, I’d have to see how I felt nine days from now, when Karin went home. And I’d have to figure out what I actually wanted. I was at a point where decisions couldn’t really be put off, and decisions, once made, would naturally exclude others.“Whatever you want,” I said softly.“Well, you know what I want. But I also. "Yea. The sort of faggot poet from New York that got more pussy last week than you'll see in your entire life."The guy sort of sputtered, so I continued. "In case you're trying to count, that's genuine human pussy. Chickens don't count. Especially not the kind you buy in the supermarket already plucked."I took a genuine satisfaction in the way he began to wilt, but then a far scarier guy on the stool closer to me spoke up, "So, you're like the Rimbaud of your generation, huh?"A chill ran up my.