No one had any idea who the shooter was or why he had been chosen as the victim. The police were stumped. The night of the shooting Richard Marten cal...ed me from his new campus. He told me the new frat president called him and reported that Richard’s journals had been stolen from the records hall. He told me the journal’s never mentioned my name in them but every lover I had was listed with dates and times. The dead players name was first on the list. I almost passed out when he told me there. Standing, I pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Dropping his t-shirt, I leaned down and lick his nipples, wetting them with my tongue and then blowing lightly across them, one after the other. Joe, like most men didn't realize that their nipples were erogenous zones, softly moaned, “Uuuuum.” Smiling, I kissed my way down his stomach to the waistband of his underwear. Hooking my thumbs in the elastic of the waistband of his boxers, I continued to kiss my way down as I slowly rolled them off. Oh, fuck, we really did this ... didn’t we? We ... fucked each other. I had sex with my own mother!” I shook my head in disbelief.“Yeah, we became lovers, dear. You, me ... and Jill. The three of us were intimate last night, all the way. Full-on threesome. Yes, you came inside me, in case you didn’t realize that part. Honey, you were awesome, at least for someone who had barely lost your cherry not long ago. The best part is that we’re now lovers for keeps. You gave us your word. You’ll keep. And if I would ever get out.*** It was about dinner time, and fortunately, all of the bruises had already healed. There wasn't even a sign that they had ever been there, much to my intense relief. That ability to heal was something that I was sure that I'd sorely miss once I got back to normal. It sure would have been useful when I was growing up. "Is there anything to eat around here?" I asked Praxis, realizing that not only was it dinner time, but that I hadn't eaten a thing since I'd ended.