Later that night I sent her a request on her messenger. She immediately accepted and was asked who I was. I got to chatting with her in a friendly man...er. We got to chatting and I came to know that she is happily married and she works for a multinational. Over the days we became very good friends and were very frank with each other. I chatted to her as if she was my very close friends. Soon we had discussed all topics under the sun, love, her marriage, etc. She told me that she loved her. I stood at about six one and weighed somewhere near one ninety. I could read and write and do sums to at least a tenth grade level.There wasn't a single paper in the owner's office that I'd ever signed myself, not a contract or agreement that I'd ever approved or ratified, but by some process that I still didn't understand, and knew that I had never really agreed to, I found myself responsible for everything on the Island. My Island now, and my responsibility too.I wasn't qualified by either. One of the more popular, local hard rock bands served as the main attraction and frat house was overflowing with party goers. Guys were constantly making beer runs to the local market and just getting something to grub on while we drank. Usually these kinds of events went on until the local police broke them up and everyone tended to party pretty hard before it was forced to an abrupt end.It was warm that night and the girls were all dressed in outfits that made guys like me walk around with. Well, kind of. “So... it's really not supposed to be... well, over that fast.” I almost felt bad about cumming so quickly. “But... you were okay with it?”“No worries.”“Well, it's usually, you know, the stereotype... the girl complains that the guy finishes too fast.”“Oh, so you get to have sex, and you're complaining now?”“No, no... I'm not saying that. I'm not complaining... I mean, I could have stopped if I wanted.”“Yeah, right.” She smiled, calling my bullshit. “I'm just messing with you. I.
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