She was kind enough to leave it at that and left me alone in my room. I turned on my music and let my mind escape in the songs and took one of my pill... and went to sleep for the night. . . . . . . I was woken up by Scott standing in my room looking down at me. He smiled his handsome smile and had a finger up to his lips shushing me. He pulled my covers back and helped me up out of bed. We walked over to the window where he had come in and went out the window. We went out on the roof and over to. "No fucking shit," snapped Sara. "You don't have to tell me something I already know. I used to complain about the exact same thing all the time, but would she ever listen to me?" Sara frowned. "No. She'd never listen to anything I had to say on the subject at all. My wife never wanted to be or look sexy; all she ever wanted her life to be was simple, plain, and boring. Sometimes I even wondered why she married me."Ron had been wondering about that as well; entrapped demons seldom married. "But. And when she said "No", I almost stopped. I didn't want the risk. I almost stopped.But I didn't.Miranda lay there, spread her legs wider, and I entered her. Jesus Christ, it felt like heaven. I felt like I was going to explode. And then it hit me. She was 17-years-old, a high school girl, and not on birth control.Without hesitation, I pulled out.Miranda lay there, looking up at me. I could see disappointment in her eyes. And staring at her little flat stomach, her beautiful teenage boobs, that. "It's fine. Deal 'em." "OK, so that's it, huh?" I said, backing away from the table. "Have fun then- and good luck...I know you always play your best poker when you're drunk and chasing losses!" I was so pissed off, and for so many reasons. Deon raised his eyebrows for a beat, then announced the dealing of the next hand. I went to the kitchen, mixed a rum and coke that was so strong it was merely tinted brown, then stomped back to the bedroom and slammed the door. That motherfucker! I slung.
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