”“Aunt Christy?” I asked, nasty thoughts chasing each other around in my mind.“Yup,” he said. “I’d have felt a lot better if she’d hav... insisted on sleeping with me.”“What could happen?” I asked.“Who knows?” he said, standing up to take his pants off. He wore jockeys, like me.I went to the linen closet and got him a sheet, so the rough fabric of the couch wouldn’t scratch him all night. By the time I got back, he’d taken his shirt off. He put his clothes right by the couch, on the floor, so he. While I try not to play too close to home, I was a little scared of who this person was that had been tormenting me all day and knew all about me.I arrived at a small house not too far from where I live. I now started to suspect who it was, and I wasn't happy about it.I walked to the door and rang the bell. When it swung open, I knew my guess was right. At the door just in a pair of black boxers was Mike.Mike is and will always be a huge douchebag. He was one of the first swingers I ever met. More

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