He was one horny fucker and I couldn’t handle it. He’d been living with me now for just two weeks and he was doing my head in. The sexual tension ...as unbearable. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he kept his jeans on. He’s one of those lads who walks about the flat in just his boxers or undies or whatever he’s wearing. I’d be like keeping my eyes off him in case I got a boner.Then one afternoon I came home and he was sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire, lying on his stomach, reading a. ’ ‘Can I ask you something?’ ‘Yeah sure Frank. You can ask me whatever you want.’ ‘Do you enjoy writing what you write?’ ‘Yes of course I do.’ ‘That is what counts. What everyone else thinks should not matter as long as it brings you enjoyment.’ ‘Thanks Frank. You really are a friend. You know exactly what to say to get me back on track.’ She sat and listened to the saxophone play for a little while. Then she said, ‘I think I ‘m going to head home and try to get some writing done. First, can I. More

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