“I need a Diet Coke”, I said breaking the silence.“Me too”, said my friend.“I need to get fucked”, interjected the flatmate with a giggle....y friend giggled and said something in their language. Both girls blushed.“Why do I feel like this is about me?”, I joked.“Oh, because it IS about you”, replied my friend as we headed out of the bathroom.We grabbed our drinks from the fridge and walked out to the small balcony. There was a gentle breeze blowing in off the water that made the humid evening. I had found the magazine in the alley that ran behind the houses on our street. It was a time before the Internet and the explosion of porn today. A time when young guys jacked off to the lingerie models in the sears catalog. My parents both worked outside the home and when they were not around I stayed with my neighbor across the street. She was in her fifties and her husband was in his early sixties. He worked for the highway department and she sometimes worked as a waitress at one of the. More

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