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And then there was Megan. She was a solid gold brick, friend and fuck partner. She told me once that she'd fucked quite a few guys but never any one nearly as much as she fucked me. She said that I made her feel better than any of the other guys, maybe because my cock was several inches longer than anybody else that she had sex with. And then she also brought three different friends to sample my cock.One night as Megan and I settled on her bed to study, there was a scratching at her window. She. Does it bother you that I am still attracted to Ben?”“Depends.”“On?”“Well, are you attracted in the sense that you want to run off with him and have his baby? Or are you attracted to him in the sense that you want to fuck him from time to time when he comes to visit?”There were a couple of underlying things going on here. I could sense it but it was hard to pinpoint exactly what she meant. So I focused on the part that came to mind first and that is I believed she was telling me something. She's sleeping -- an exhausted, dead sleep. She casts only the faintest shadows of subconscious, mere shimmers in Dream. But Will finds them and tugs.He gets only fleeting images.Randall Holden, looking huge and angry, charging across an open field, dipping slightly to deliver a bone-crunching hit that sends a man flying.A train wreck, ominous billowing smoke sprawling overhead to block the moonlight.A waitress, her nametag upside-down.Himself, sleeping/working on the couch in his office.A. I am walking down a lonely street in the temporarily abandoned heart of the cities downtown. Just two hours ago these streets swarmed with thousands of reckless bodies, this road played stage in countless dramatic reproductions of human issues. Now it is a distant path, silent with the exception of the dull rattle of beer cans which a smooth, quick breeze blow down the street almost like leaves in a late autumn stream. I could kick myself out of desperation and still wouldn't feel anything.
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