” “And you’re not going to be jealous?” “Honey, do I play tennis worth a shit?” “No. You suck at it.” “Right. We both know that. So,...should I get all wrapped around the axle because you play tennis with somebody else, somebody who can actually play the game?” “But, Kevin, this is fucking, not tennis!” “Yeah. So what?” “Fucking is special.” “Only if you make it that way. Loving is special. Fucking is just sex. It’s all just a question of attitude.” “What about the other stuff?” “What other. I expected to be pouring drinks into it for at least a few hours. I walked across the street carrying a six pack of canned cokes. I remembered that in my locker there was an almost full bottle of some kind of Irish Whiskey. The Irish Whiskey was a gift from someone I worked with now and then. Yeah him,I walked across the street and felt an eerie feeling as I crossed over the spot where I had almost bled to death. I remembered how hollow it felt to finish off Nanny Cunt, when I was the new me.. She got home after my uncle was back from work. I'd never gone to meet her at the beach. She didn't say a thing that night. We had an awkward dinner where my uncle never guessed something was amiss. The only thing of note was her mentioning that she was going to take off the rest of the week --she said she didn't want me to lonely at home. I just assumed she no longer trusted me.I couldn't get to sleep for hours that night. It was after three when I finally dozed off. And so I slept through. When I got there she had her cat ate the canary expression on her face. You know, the one she has when she's about to do something outlandishly sexy and erotic, and delightfully evil!As soon as I opened the door she grabbed my hand and led me into the living room. She'd had the place decked out with candles and soft music. She pushed me down on the couch and proceeded to unbuckle my belt and yank my zipper down. She wasn't being coy or tender about it. I was expecting, by the time she got.