Мгла
The First Night.
forawhileIhadkeptaneyeonhertoseeifshewasgoingtorakeoutapairofcontactlenses,butapparentlythecolorwastrue.Iwantedtomakelovetoher.Mywifewasathome,maybealive,moreprobablydead,aloneeitherway,andIlovedher;IwantedtogetBillyandmebacktohermorethananything,butIalsowantedtoscrewthisladynamedAmandaDumfries.Itriedtotellmyselfitwasjustthesituationwewerein,andmaybeitwas,butthatdidn’tchangethewanting.
Idozedinandout,thenjerkedawakemorefullyaroundthree.Amandahadshiftedintoasortoffetalposition,herkneespulleduptowardherchest,handsclaspedbetweenherthighs.Sheseemedtobesleepingdeeply.Hersweatshirthadpulledupslightlyononeside,showingcleanwhiteskin.Ilookedatitandbegantogetanextremelyuselessanduncomfortableerection.
ItriedtodivertmymindtoanewtrackandgotthinkingabouthowIhadwantedtopaintBrentNortonyesterday.No,nothingasimportantasapainting,but...justsithimonalogwithmybeerinhishandandsketchhissweaty,tiredfaceandthetwowingsofhiscarefullyprocessedhairstickingupuntidilyintheback.Itcouldhavebeenagoodpicture.Ittookmetwentyyearsoflivingwithmyfathertoaccepttheideathatbeinggoodcouldbegoodenough.
Youknowwhattalentis?Thecurseofexpectation.Asakidyouhavetodealwiththat,beatitsomehow.Ifyoucanwrite,youthinkGodputyouonearthtoblowShakespeareaway.
