He had just been contemplating risking a peek through the door, but now he didn’t have to risk anything; he had an excuse. “Oh, yeah, erm...sure!�...� He shouted back. He ran to the closet in his room, from which he removed a purposely-small white towel, and running back to the bathroom. He knocked on the door before opening it, popping his head round and lying, “This was the only one, and don’t worry, I’ve got my eyes closed.” He stared at Kerry’s back through the glass, her perfect ass dripping. “I have been in enough locker rooms to know I’m just an average guy.”“Untrue, some men are showers and others are growers. You my friend are a well feed, fertilized grower. But enough of the mental healing portion of your therapy, let’s get cleaned up and re-centered so I can focus on the physical pains Marco inflicted.”-=-March 17I approach Molly’s front door, a quaint log cabin a few miles outside of town, carrying flowers and a bottle of wine, and realize I have not seen her around the gym. More

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