?You’re not a real man; you’re a joke.? My husband jumped up, his chair flying across the room and into the wall. ?You shut the fuck up!? ... ?Why?? I said. ?What are you going to do?? I turned my head and looked at the leaky mildew-encrusted pipes over my head. ?Kill me?? The two men looked at each other, but said nothing. My husband looked absurd—his rigid cock swiveling when he moved, pants balled up around his ankles. Having established a pecking order, or so I. ....The next morning Chloe sat at the Main Street cafe, on one of the outsidetables with a large white umbrella covering. She wore a nice white onepiece dress with her hair done up in a single braid over one shoulder.She glanced at her wrist watch, nearly five minutes past nine, where ishe she wondered. Matt's not one to be late, she mused as she lookedaround the busy street fronts in front of and then back beyond, storefronts stretching out to the horizon."Oh hello there, dear sis," a voice. More

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