She looked round curiously, suddenly noticing that the bed was rumpled and the room heavy with the smell of sex, and blushed to the tips of her ears. ...he had risen was about to leave when he emerged, wearing jeans and buttoning a shirt. ‘Mary.’ His voice was warm and rich. ‘What can I do for you, and who are you, and where are you from, and why are you so nervous?’ She found herself sitting down again and explaining everything, the words tumbling out of her, for once not feeling self-conscious.. So I walked back to Uncle Willard's house, got back in his truck, and drove to Victor.Everybody there was dead, too. There was one guy sitting in his car, at a non-functioning traffic light, but he was stone-dead. I checked a couple of houses, and although the doors were locked, I could see people inside, dead in their beds.What the fuck would account for this?I drove back to Cripple Creek, stopping a couple of times along the way to check on mineshafts I passed. Maybe if being underground had. That’s where and when I was conceived, an inspiration of unintentional consequences from a genuine mutual attraction and inattention to details, like birth control.Don’t get the wrong idea, they did fall in love, it was not just a one night stand. But I was the product of that first consummation of their passion on the very evening of their initial encounter. By the end of the week though, pop had to return to New Jersey. They were certain that they would some how build a life together. . I'd love to post for you, but here is the catch. I HATE posting and never 1) getting any ratings and 2) never getting feedback!!! So, I am going to post a few of my stories this weekend and if I get good feedback, I may feel motivated to keep writing...I really do hope you enjoy... because I want to hear about how much you enjoy it!!]Summer is my busy season, and after racking up 70 hours of work in six days, the drive home was just more than I could handle yesterday, so I pulled off at a.