We made erotic promises for long weekends by the shore, with long nights and cool breezy afternoons. Labor Day weekend was just two weeks a way and I ...uggested we fulfill our desires then. I wanted her so bad in my bed, in my arms, in my mouth.I wanted Peggie desiring me. I knew she did, she often made licking gestures as she stroked my breasts. It was settled that Friday afternoon. We would plan a weekend at the Cape. Peggie loved the ocean as did I. We packed more clothes than we needed, but. ?" the man's voice called out curiously, and I heard hisfootsteps stop briefly before my stall before passing on. "Anybody inhere?"Nope, nobody here buddy. Nobody at all; just ignore the pregnant manbehind stall #1, I thought nervously as I bit my lip, trying to project mywill upon the guy to get the hell out.My heart nearly leaped up my throat as he suddenly knocked on the stalldoor next to me, then a few moments later paused, then knocked on mine. Iwinced as I felt my stomach tying itself. It's scary. My breasts have all blown up like a nursing mother's, and they give a *lot* of milk. No. No, that's what's so weird about it; I've never been pregnant. And yet, there they are. They hurt terribly if I don't use the breast pump, but the relief never seems to last very long. And if I hear a baby cry, in a supermarket or something, they just *flood*. I wear this, you know, nursing bra to absorb some of it, but the milk just floods in spite of it and my whole front is sopping wet and I. While it was definitely a young man's room, at least he'd taken down the Led Zeppelin posters, and the somewhat cheesy 'girly' pictures — all safely clothed, but revealingly so — had come down too. Football posters, including one large one featuring the West Ham United star, Trevor Brooking, had replaced them.Simon's Fire Brigade kit was safely put away, except for his helmet, which was on the table next to his bed. There were several shelves of books, and several more with LP's and.