I don't remember how many men had their way with me in that sleeper car, but there sure were a lot of hard dicks wanting my attention. I remember the party went on for hours and hours.One time when I was on leave, I took a bus back East. It was so stifling and such a long trip, I bailed out somewhere in the Midwest to relax for a couple of days at a hotel. I had a bathing suit that was way too small, but I wore it to the pool and dove in. It was afternoon, and the only other person sitting around the pool was an older gentleman in his 50's with grey hair, reading the newspaper. I could feel his eyes on me. I began to have a few erotic scenes run through my head, so I had to rearrange my cock in my swim suit. I got out of the pool using the ladder right in front of the man. He looked up from his paper and he asked me how the water was. All the while, he stared at the front of my swim suit which showed the outline of my erection. We chatted about the weather and trivial. Erin looked at her brother-in-law and was filled with a blind rage. Not at him, though. But rather, at herself. If she hadn’t been fucking James and if she hadn’t been taunting Randy, none of this would have happened. It was her fault. Not Randy’s. James was dead because of her. Erin could taste the bitterness of bile that rested at the back of her mouth. Erin didn’t pay much attention to anything they said after that. She simply ‘turned herself off’ and fell into a deep depression. She didn’t want to see anyone, talk to anyone or eat. The next week was a blur for her. ‘Honey,’ Merle Durant walked into the living room, ‘the center just called and said we need to go ahead and schedule your sessions since you’ll be getting your cast of next week.’ Erin stared at the TV and tried to ignore the constant itching on her thigh. Not only did she have a cast on, but she’d had surgery to set the bone with pins and the incision site with its stitches was driving her nuts. {Physical therapy?.
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