.., you can't mean..., oh my God..., do men do that?".Alan nodded, "Next time you're lying in this bed, enjoying your 'toys', think of me lying in my ...ed, knocking one out with your panties over my face"."Oh my God", I giggled, my hands over my face. By the time I'd removed them, Alan was down to his boxers. Just as he was hooking his fingers into the waistband, I said, "No, come here, let me".As he stood by the bed, I leaned on my side and looked at the bulge in his boxers. Tentatively,. . or even another country. Had he thought about that?In fact, he'd thought about a lot of things, and that was but one of them. Divorced, broke and overflowing with hate, he had migrated north of the border, found employment in a small factory in Ontario, then, fumbled a stupid attempt to hijack its payroll.So, once again here he was, five-years later, no less bitter, but seasoned, and happy to be breathing free air once more as he walked along a side street off St. Catherine in the warm. More

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