My life become one of memory and fantasy. Memories of days, nights, experiences, with Julie and Anne, and other women, some of whose names I could not...even remember, some of whom I was surprised to realize I had known twenty or thirty years earlier, were incomparably more vivid than Lynn’s infrequent, wraithlike presence. I masturbated to those memories considerably more than I had sex with my wife. And I masturbated to rented videos, seeking out those which featured women who bore some. "Do you want to talk? Or play with these?" She asked, holding her sweater above her bare boobs.As we both new her older brother Michael could be home anytime now, I opted for some breast fondling and nipple sucking instead.Though Michael and I got along ok, he was particularly protective of his sister, watching us like a hawk whenever he was around. He had told me early on in our relationship when things started to finally 'look' serious, that if I ever "touched" his sister ... meaning. More

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