‘What the fuck does that mean?’ asked Martin. We were chatting on the phone, he from his university dorm in Bristol, me from my bedroom in my pare...ts’ house. Following our holiday in Amsterdam a few months before, we hadn’t spent any time together. We tried to chat on the phone at least once a week and we’d usually combine it with ‘downtime’, which is what we called the masturbation sessions we shared when we were younger.Usually we’d speak about girls (typically, Martin would describe his. ” Lissa paused, struggling with her own demons. I willed her to go on, but let her take her time without pressuring her. “You need to know. It’s only fair.” she said finally. “My parents were killed in an auto accident when I was twelve and I went to live with my father’s sister. Jack was her husband. They became my legal guardians. Aunt Jane got uterine cancer the next year. It was fast and devastated Jack. In just a few weeks, she was gone and it was just Jack and me. After the first time I. More

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