At one side of the stage stands a makeshift tent comprised of two army blankets pinned over a rope tied to two branches that serve as tent posts. A re... glow in the background suggests both a sunset and the flames of the still burning city below." As the scene opens a young man of 28 crawls out of the tent, clad only in blue jeans with a fig leaf hastily stitched onto the front. A handkerchief is tied around his head. He is 'Michael' Adamson Chauvin III, the last surviving male after a nuclear. ) As for their three children – Joy, Thomas and Alexandria, ages six to twelve – they scarcely knew their father and had learned from a young age to endure their mother’s difficult moods. Like many children of their class, they had been forced to grow up rather before their age. Fortunately for Joy, Thomas and Alexandria, their lives were not without warmth or support. Their tutor, a regal French lady named Sandrine, provided them with affection as well as knowledge and was as much a friend as. He fucked me hard and fast andsoon I could feel his cock shooting his spunk into mypussy and then as he pulled his cock out of me, Joecame into my mouth. I heard Fred say, ‘The boys are going to love fuckingthis hot bitch.’ ‘Yes,’ replied Joe. ‘She’s certainly one hot slut.’ The demeaning way in which they were talking about me,talking about me as though I wasn’t there. Just turnedme on all the more.When they had finished with me, we all returned. Send flowers? No, that might be too cliché, and unwelcome if she’s not interested. What then? Write her a note? Nah…wait…maybe, but not a note though. I had recently discovered that I enjoyed creative writing. I had submitted one of my short stories to an online writing site for critique, and it had been well received. If I remembered correctly, there was a Valentine’s Day writing contest going on. Maybe I could put how I felt down in a short story and ask her to critique it. I still wasn’t.