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"You turn eighteen and figure out the p-URRRP! -p- portal gun and this is how you want to use it? Sick little mother fucker, Morty. Literally. You're not right in the head." The genius took another swig from his whisky flask as he watched his grandson fiddle with the dials.Morty couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he punched in the coordinates on the miracle device."I don't, I don't care w-what you say Rick. All the shit I've gone through... it's about time I got... went to get mine." Morty really didn't care any more. He had earned the right, as far as he was concerned. The eager young man's tongue was now sticking out the corner of his mouth in concentration as he double checked his inputs. "Y-y-you said I'm an adult now Rick," he continued, "and can do whatever I want and this is what I'm gonna... what I want to go do. So screw you." Shit. Me too, Morty? At least take me out to dinner fi--UUURRRRss-st, Casanova," burped Rick sarcastically."Very funny, Rick. Alright I think. "I'll attend the dean's party alone, make some excuses for you, and..." I don't want you to make any excuses for me, Paul," she said, suddenly flushed with anger, anger that was evident in her voice. She took a deep breath and calmed down."All right, I won't make any excuses, but let's get together Saturday. My place," he said. "I'll cook dinner for us, and we'll talk about this some more."He deserved that much, at least. "What time, and do you want me to bring anything?" How about six o'clock, and I'll take care of everything, Leah."They said their goodbyes and ended the call.As she sat and thought about the conversation, she wondered how she would have reacted if he'd said he loved her. He had not said the magic words, though. During all the time they'd been together, he'd never said that he loved her, another source of irritation she'd put up with.No more. Saturday evening, I'll end the relationship, she vowed. I want some goldurned excitement in my life.Friday morning while Leah.
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I had read recently a fine written work by the Marquis De Sade describing his incarcerated musings and have to admit the stark images made me more susceptible to the urge for copulation regardless of the age or physical appeal of the masculine side of the equation.In other words, if I could get the fellow hard enough to enter my territorial waters, I didn’t care if he was a Pirate or a Saint as long as he could get to the finish line without losing his hardened state and determined desire to make me take it like a “good girl” in complicit concert of action.One of my wardens was a young lad called Hannibal and he was from a region in the northern part of the outlands that used a dialect that was all but incomprehensible to educated subjects of the realm. Despite his communication shortcomings, I grew quite fond of the lad even though he was almost a decade younger than I. He was one of those lower born folk that were more drawn to religious thinking than the hedonistic inclinations of.

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