He wondered if she was still his girlfriend. She'd said "Fuck you" to him. Did she mean it like, "'fuck you' fuck-you", or like, "fuck you! we're thro...gh! fuck-you?"Ryan laid in bed for several hours. He squeezed out a few more tears, as many as he could to feel more sorry for himself. His clock read 1: 36 am. Jen was probably asleep by now. He wished he was asleep. He could call her and hope she answered before her parents, but they'd probably be woken up and pissed off at him. He pictured her. Soon she clamped her legs onto his invisible head and thrust her crotch against it repeatedly in her first orgasm. Then closed her eyes and felt herself rise toward another.She remembered doing this once with a slim young man she'd dated long before her marriage. They'd gone sailing and gotten becalmed, andthere'd been nothing to do but wait. Well, almost nothing. They'dgone into the cuddy cabin, and there as the little boat rolledgently she'd lain on top of him and he'd rolled his head. More

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