What happen to, "I'll be your wing man?"... What a douche, walking off with a blonde bimbo. Knowing him, he's somewhere out in the middle of the Minnesota timbers getting it on like the horny mutt he is," I mumbled. In the distance I could hear a car coming up beside me. "Hey look, if it isn't bawl. What's the matter? Bawling because your boyfriend left you." I knew who it was but stupid me, I did not ignore him. Instead I turned to verify my guess. Brad Tidleson, captain of the football team, star quarterback, over all ass. He was with his mindless goons as he said, "If you're that lonely. You can come in here and suck my big cock. No? You a one man's man? Oh well bawler, guess I'll have to catch you later." Before I could shot out a comeback, Brad burned rubber down the rollercoster called a street. Before they reached the first crest, a shadow dashed in front of them. The crash was audible. Well, less audible then, "Oh shit dude. What did you hit?" "I don't know... fuck.". She hadn’t really given me an answer, but I hadn’t really expected one. Abby was good at not giving answers. You might even say she was a professional. It came with the territory. She was a Professor at a prestigious university, teaching courses in political science. Up until now, she’d done all the right things. Gone to the best schools, graduated at the top of her class, met all the right people and kept her reputation above reproach. She’d married into money and given birth to two perfect, blonde, blue eyed, kids, just like her… And then she’d met me. I was her Achilles’ heel she’d tell me from time to time. Usually it was while putting her clothes back on, like right now. I lay on the sheets, just watching her dress, my naked body covered with our perspiration and cum, a satisfied smile glowing on my face as she’d pause, a rare haunted look in her clear blue eyes. “Baby,” (She always called me baby, never used my real name, Shannon. Okay, that’s not totally true. There were.
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