"I think you've cured me of my deep cynicism about marriage." It wasn't a proposal; just an indication I was thinking on those lines.She really didn't...say much. After a while, I heard her breathing slow, and I knew she was asleep. I joined her in that sweet slumber.It was the last time for a while.She didn't come home the next evening, and I got worried. It wasn't like her. She finally stumbled in around midnight, reeking of beer and smoke. "Where have you been?" I asked, rather more sharply. Love was not smoke and mirrors. And faith and belief may help once you have earned it, but there was no magic involved. Love was a crop like any other and it must be sown to be reaped. I didn't receive love because I hadn't earned it. I had sown wealth and power and I had reaped them - KaibaCorp was everything I wanted and more when I determined that Mokuba would not grow up in that hell of an orphanage.I had never sown love because love had never been a desire of mine. It was not something I. But they were like night and day: Linda was a tall, six-foot platinum blonde, with small tits, and a runway model"s body; Stacy was Italian, five-four, with huge breasts and long black hair. Her body was thin, but more curvaceous. They just got finished with a morning of tennis, and now they were in the locker room. They only went there to dry themselves with towels, and rest a bit (neither of them liked to shower in public). Stacy looked over at Linda, watching as she slid the towel up and. That was your mother on the phone. She is wondering where you are.” I was confused. “Well I thought we could, you know,” I said with a smile as I pulled her closer to me. She jerked away from me again, and walked away towards her room. She went in and slammed the door behind her. I stood there shocked, wondering what was happening. I walked over to her door, and knocked. “I thought we had a good time last night.” The door flew open after I spoke, and out flew my shoes and shirt. The door.
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