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The Portrait of: Mr. Augusto S. Moaio The Mu-man “The Mu-men, how did they get here?” asked Professor Eceptico-Espirtu, of the University of Lima (in Peru). “How do you think,” said a youthful student named: Augusto S. Moaio, a wild looking flat faced undergraduate from one of the South Pacific Islands: adding, “they came on a damn ship from Saturn and some from Mercury, from its gigantic volcano area.” It was the first day of classes for the students and so the Professor hesitated in correcting the young lad, and simply smiled reluctantly at him. Then after a—something shorter than a pause—he remarked, “That all seems a bit far fetched, like one of those Edgar Rice Burroughs novels, or Mr. Doyle’s “Lost World,” crap”; the class laughed and so the professor figured he’d string the new student along and listen like a good father would to a spoiled son, and then make a lesson out of him in front of the class. “So it does,” responded the mad and impatient young man, with a receding hairline, and long ears; not long-long ears, but not normal size either. Matter of fact, the professor took a second look for he had not noticed them a moment ago being long at all. Said the Professor [cynically] “Tell me Mr. Moaio just where these Mu-men came from in a more specific and detailed manner: and if possible, in chronological order, for we all seem so uninformed according to you; henceforward son, move on, give us a better grasp on this!” This was the normally way for the professor to scare off his challengers [or challenges] in class; that is, toss a little fun their way [belittle them if need be] make them sweat; thus, shutting down their stupid questions, or remarks, as he felt they were just annoyances, but he had to allow some inquiry. Said Mr. Moaio with a smile [after a short consideration], or was it a sneer, it’s hard to determine, “They were already here long before the aliens arrived: the Mu-men that is.” “You don’t need to clarify who we are discussing; you are all alive and I dare say, some undergraduates, and some graduate students, are you not; you all got cultured brains I hope, especially being in my class you better have.” The ‘not’ and ‘you’ had an inflection to it. “Carry on Augusto,” bellowed the professor. [A little stiffly—he’s mad.] “As I was about to say,” the class all looking at the young tall man standing by his desk now, all twenty students with inquisitive eyes and wondering if this was a stage play or what. “…the primitive Mu-men were injected with a chromosome buster, they were evidently breaking and life expectancy was less than twenty-five years for them, and the aliens helped in this area, in particular, the Saturnites. This of course was the beginnings of the highbred Mu-men, whom were similar to our great apes or primates if you will, prior to their helpful technology.” The professor now said [laconically]. “So are we getting a lesson on Evolution, Mr. Moaio?” “Oh no just a chronological order of how they came to be and whom they were as you wanted Sir.” “Carry on, carry on, young lad…” said the professor—wild-eyed—with distain in his countenance, adding: “and when did all this take place, since you seem to have hidden knowledge none of us have; dates give me dates, they got to someplace in that big head of yours.” Now the professor got another laugh from his students, as he predicted. But it didn’t seem to faze the new student. “Well,” he said with thought through breathe, ‘it’s not all that simple, it really was a long trip, I mean it happened in stages….” [A pause, as Augusto took a swallow.] (The professor now leaned against his podium, putting his forearms down on its wooden side frame; his lecture was stopped for the most part and he knew it, which was originally on the 8th continent [Lemuria: which was to have stretched from Easter Island to Tahiti, to Fiji and onto Guam and beyond, and over to Hawaii]. He was going to explore the Maya culture and the Egyptian and try to mix it in with Lemuria. It was all lost now, the South Pacific per se was his domain to talk about, he had spent 26-years on Easter Island, during his summer breaks, and was always delighted to start his program out on the history of this area adding his exploits to the learning process, and this Augusto had just taken it away.) Said the professor [emphatically], “Were you were about to say something Mr. Moaio?” [Blinking.] “The Mu-men were once a great ape society, giants if you will (the professor quickly added, ‘Like King Kong I suppose?’ but Augusto just continued to talk without stopping). In consequence, they were given a Gravity-reinforcer, what you might call a membrane around a cell, but it was put around the chromosomes of the Mu-men, allowing their chromosomes to withstand their breakage so easily. And in time they were even given an additional chromosome. Again I repeat myself, allowing longer life for the Mu-men. The collapsing of the chromosomes was the big fault the aliens from Mercury had concluded. Thereafter, their life span jumped up fifteen if not twenty-five years, and as time proceeded they would gain even a longer life span, once acquiring better eating habits, disease control, along with better hygiene. I do agree with you professor with the size of the continent, although it was a bit larger (the professor gave a limped smile). The Mu-men were self producing, in essence, they kind of laid eggs in reproducing themselves. And by the continued aid from the two alien races, they acquired both sex organs, and started to cohabitate with humans. Actually capturing them and bringing them to their abodes as they felt a need to, or out of necessity for offspring that might be more humanoid like. As a result, the alien races decided to stop the so called experiment; of course to the disappointment of the Mu-men. Let me add, the Mu-men were now a distorted bunch of creatures: some with three eyes, and feet that looked like ducks so they could walk backwards or forwards, some even sideways. In addition, they had a small cranial, possible that of the Neanderthal, or even Homo erectus. But he or they did become a new species, and that was what they wanted.” As Augusto stopped to catch his breathe, the professor noticed his brow ridges were pronounced over his eyes (he hadn’t noticed them before being so), it was as if he was of an old age; for he concluded, age, thickens the brows, and drops the jaw bone, thus he must be very old, but he was young looking in all fairness. The Professor [losing confidence under Augusto’s stare] said, “Continue please,” digging his fingers into the wood of the podium stand. [Cooley.] “Well,” he continued with a dry mouth, but steady voice, “they had little brains compared to us, one could say. But great was their supernatural willpower; that is to say, they could move objects unbelievable heavy. Things large cranes today could not move.” [Suspiciously.] The professor looked up to the ceiling as if to stop Augusto from talking for a moment—showing a bit of world-weariness, and want to insert his two-cents worth, thus, saying as he lowered his head, “No, no, now do you really think we are to believe this, I mean, move what, show us, I mean point to an example so we can scientifically …” [Augusto now interrupts. He rings off despondently.] “I was about to explain, if you will let me Professor [a pause, limited to a moment] the Mu-men moved great stones with the clap of an eye, how they acquired this ability was a mixture of their hybrid genetic breeding I would imagine. They were quite primitive you know, and had four arms at one time. And for your dates, I’d say it was 17,694 BC when they became completely a jawboned bipedal human, yet let me not forget to include for your information, they remained still linked to the ancestry of the two limbed Lotus Demon [of Mercury] now, they carried their blood through these developing stages of trying to become closer to the humanoid species. And then around 13,500 BC, the war started with Atlantis.” “Honesty,” said the professor, “my gosh, now we got Atlantis in this so called thesis, and a two limbed demon, what next?” Two limbed Lotus Demon Said the professor with a speculative eye, “It seems to me you are grabbing at fragments of unwritten, mythological history, legends if you will, adding them to your recipe of anthropological gobbledygook, and with a slice of interplanetary jargon; and thinking we are to swallow it whole?” Augusto (with a tortured mind trying to convince the professor ((magnanimously))—assured himself he’d give it one more try), “Professor [he said], a large object, possible several miles across struck the planet Mercury, this smashing into the planet caused immense waves of superheated vapor that rolled for hundreds of miles, killing everything in its path, thus the Mercurynites sought out another haven, earth. The impact was so devastating it caused a tidal wave sending millions of tons of dust and vapor into its atmosphere, which darkened a side of the planet; in a similar manner the very thing that took place on earth. The creatures of Mercury are in our blood.” Augusto had to imply the word ‘us,’ instead of ‘him,’ so as to not cause alarm. Mercury’s Demise At that very moment Augusto sat down in his chair, closed his eyes, and folded his hands [somewhat despairingly]. The Professor noticed now he had long finger nails—so the professor had just noticed—with a lofty high head of red hair, again something that just occurred to him, and his groin area bulged out as if he had an overgrown penis. All concerned, he was looking [He being: the Professor] at the rest of the class to see if they had noticed the transformation of this young student’s bodily configuration—and to no avail, they all seemed quite content to carry on with listening to the dialogue between the two, without an iota of any x-ray appearances taking place. Thus, he rubbed his eyes and wiped his glasses, but it was more than that. He tried to place this person into a gap of time, pre-historic epoch, relating him to mankind’s ancestors, like: Australopithecus, Homo Habilis or Home erectus, for he was shape changing in x-ray vision in front of him with such features, yet his height remained the same. Possibly he was seeing layers of this person, his ancestry layers, along with bazaar alien layers also, such as: skull, lower jaw, ribs, and vertebrae and limb fragments, ex-ray configurations. He was no paleontologist, but he knew what he saw in the fossil findings of early man, and he knew anatomy quite well. And he concluded he was witnessing 40,000-years in a moment’s time. As Augusto closed his eyes, he held his hands against his frontal lobe, he chanted something beyond recognition, the professor could hear his heart beat, it was like the thumping of hoof beats—hoof beats coming louder and louder; the professor became speechless, almost as if in a trance. To break the silence the professor said, “It is all still a mystery; just, just a damn mystery…” but at the end of the last word the five story building started to shift off its concrete foundation, brick by brick it loosened and lift its home base—lifted up several inches from its groundwork. Then the young man opened his eyes, a flat look on his face, his teeth grinding, eyes bloodshot like a gorilla’s, a Great Ape’s. Said the young man with a tarnished and rustic voice, one not quite like the Professor had heard a few minutes ago: “Mysteries are not meant to be completely sold for the price of curiosity, they all have a heavier price than one normally wants to pay, and should you wish to seek out all it has to offer, you will have to pay the price.” It was a statement not a question. It was as if the lad was giving the professor a choice of some kind (we also must remember the building is still standing several inches in the air and throughout the hallways and classrooms people are thinking an earthquake just took place and are running wildly about.) But let me continue with the shrewd professor—so he thinks he is. “Mysteries, the mind, the why’s, they belong to people like me, who have studied all their life to seek them out; the layman knows not how to handle such things, it is the scientist who deserves the discovery.” The young man just looked [eagerly] at the professor as if he may get his wish. Then [breathlessly] crashing through the door was the Dean, he had ran from classroom to classroom, but when he came upon Professor EE’s room [as he was often called] he was stunned to see everyone still sitting calmly, and the professor at the podium still having a discussion, or so it looked like it to him. “Are you mad Professor EE, get this classroom out of harms way, get them outside, we’re in the middle of an earthquake!” then he ran uncontrollably out of the room to warn the adjacent class. At that moment, that very moment, the class seemed to have gotten out of its fog and stumbled to the door, all left, but the professor and the young man, whom remained stationary in the same positions they had been for the past hour, with their ongoing dialogue. “Ah!” said Augusto [fiercely], “there is a Mecca of possibilities Professor!” The professor knew beyond a doubt he was with some kind of ancient being; possible a shape-changer, things were too weird, the whole day was too eerie. The building now fell back roughly onto its foundation, but was still not stable, it was leaning, and some of floors and stairways had broken and sunk onto the lower floor; it would take a miracle to put it back into place; it would have to be rebuilt. The Professor [astounded] asked, “Where are you from?” now having changed his style and tone of voice. “From the third cataclysm of Atlantis and the one wherein Mu sank, and Atlantis survived; as it had twice before tasted near-extinction, calamities as you would have it. The forth cataclysm it sank completely, those who survived, were scattered around the world. The residue of Mu was scattered around the world likewise, I helped build the Gran Saposoa in the Amazon jungle, lost to humanity for 2000-years. I seen two Ice Ages come and go; I witnessed the warm airs of Europe pass over to North America when there was no Greenland to subdue it. I witnessed the Geological North Pole move from the Northwest Passage to where it is today. I was one of the first Chahopoyas natives. It’s been an interesting life to say the least.” A sneer again appeared on the professor’s face, Augusto knew he’d have to prove it, but should he it would have to be—aggravatingly. It was one thing to show his powers in levitation, another to say you were over 13,000-years old. “Excuse me Professor,” said Augusto, “just how much proof do you want of me, to scornfully prove, the Mu-man lives on in me?” Now Augusto’s body became like an x-ray again, but with beams radiating from it. But the professor, arrogantly would not except this manifestation as proof he was as old as he claimed or personified in [with] his materializations; and Augusto could not go beyond this without harming himself, or for that matter, without returning to his old genetic half-human like species, the one he left behind so long ago; changeability was not on his menu like his grandfather’s before him: it would be his obliteration, he had chromosomes now that would never break, he could live possibly 20,000-years should he care for himself properly. (You could hear the fire engines, and the police cars now outside ((below)); the authorities wondering what had, and was taking place, while these two men remained standing in the same place, same position they had now for, let’s say an hour and a half. Then just as the professor began to laugh, a little stiffly he became, his bones were receptive to the new developments inside his skin; his chromosomes: his twenty-third lost its vitality—his face looked as it had gone mad, his chin drooping with old age, distorted; he was developing long lived hormones, he was separating from the Homo sapiens, more within the genera of Australopithecus, with features closer to the Neanderthal, thus he was becoming a living fossil, if you will: close to the looks of Homo erectus. His large brow ridges now rested over his eyes, made him look a thousand years old, a build-up of bone over the eye socks that were so pronounced he could not look straight up at the ceiling as he did before; his feet were like a ducks, he must had been nine feet tall now, with a three eyes, two new arms growing, facial distortions, worse than homo erectus; a primitive human species beyond his imagination, more like the Murcerynites. His brain capacity was lowered, he couldn’t think quickly, and when he did think and try to hold the thought, he forgot it even quicker, but he had a stronger will now, but didn’t know how to use it. He would soon find out, he couldn’t change his body back to how it was. Augusto had learned how to transform into another comatose body, and when that person died of old age, he’d shift into another. But this freak of nature, as the professor would soon be, would be subject to all the sciences the world had to offer. He would never have peace. That is when Augusto stood up, walked out of his the classroom, never to return; for the shrewd professor could not speak a language anymore, just some sounds, gestures, and he became the talk of the decade, until he committed suicide. vig rx review penis enargement excersizes vimax top rated penis enlargement pills penile enlargement procedure penis enhancement before and after photo buy penis enargement pills penis enlagement herb penis enhancement fact homemade penis enlargement

The Forest As we drove farther into the outskirts of Augsburg, looking out placidly across the top of cars, houses, and at the dogs running about, I got thinking, thinking how I felt being with Chris, about Chris. It was like I was cast into a spell, an enchantment, or perhaps a curse; very seldom did I ever feel like this. Normally I would feel like this only if I was in the presence of a great person, like my karate instructor in San Francisco, Gosei Yamauchi, or his father ‘The Cat’ Gogan, who was one of the few 10th degree black belts in the world. Normally I’d be high the whole next day. With Chris I felt the same way I knew tomorrow I’d be high all day, it was a natural high. Once—I can’t remember when—I had read something about the poet Emily Dickinson, she was something like a recluse, but she made a poem indicating nature was her high, and I always remember that. How true this can be, grabbing the moment and cherishing it, absorbing it as if there was no tomorrow, and at the same time absorbing nature: the sounds and the heart beat mother earth, and sky; others humans, and the dogs and birds, all such things that at that moment surround you; they are all somewhat magical. I was learning, how to be a listener if anything and it entailed all things within your presence. Chris was fully alive now, as I turned my head towards her delectation her steering wheel facing me, at which made the moment a little more interesting, as she felt good about me checking her out; a weary kind of sense, not defeat, just a good profile look; I thought dimly in my mind as she drove mile after mile: how could she afford to look so prim and proper all the time. Do her hair in a unique style, not a hair out of place, so it seemed. I guess in our own way we are all unique, I heard that someone say that someplace, not sure where. An hour and a half had passed on by and she was still driving, and it was getting dark. She pulled into a wooded area; she said it was the outer rim of the Black Forest (otherwise known as the Eyebrow of the Woods), I think I heard of that forest in a fairytale book or at least that is where my mind said I got it from. An enchanting name, I must had said it my second self, that little person inside of all of us that we talk to: Black Forest, Black Forest…! “So you see,” said Chris “…here we are!” She added her conclusive little smile to her face as she said that; as we entered the dark huge green forest, parking the car a little off to the side of a dirt road that lead into the deeper and more distant part of the forest, partly covered by trees and bushes now. There was a chill in the air so I rolled up the window, as she turned on the radio for some music. Very quickly and carefully she moved her thin reserved neck and shoulders into my area, she just starred at me, as if she was going to eat me up; as her left arm was lowered, it pulled out a bottle of Mosel-Saar-Ruwer wine, 1965 wine, -- I looked the bottle over 9.5% volume; I knew they had been making wine around this intriguing river and hilly area for close to 1700-years. It was good wine I had tasted it before, not sweat or dry, flowerily white wine to be exact. “Now,” said Chris indignantly, but with the air of a certain point, “…let’s see what we can do with this battle. We started to drink and laugh. “Ah, yes,” I said to her, “you have a lovely profile.” She smiled and threw her head back. “Well,” I thought out loud “… this is a good way to pass the night away, and begin romantic indecencies”-- she leaned over the center-divider of the bucket seats to kiss me. She opened her mouth, sunk her lips on mine, as she pulled her long legs to the under-part of the dash, she then started to unzip her zipper to her boots. “This,” commented Chris “passes everything…I never did it in a car before.” She had drunk down 1/5 of the wine like a person drinking water. “Chick,” said Chris, ”…come over here.” I moved my body closer to hers. Everything seemed to be in the way. I could not back out of whatever was going to happen; and I knew what was in the makings. She was starting to stretch her hands out: --her blouse went over her head, I just kept looking as she started to strip, I was growing, getting as hard as a pencil. “Oh, damn Chick,” said Chris heartily as she touched my item. Just her saying that aroused me; then pulling off her bra, and her skirt up I seemed to become tranquilized somehow, my mind slipped to King Solomon, of all things, as he once defined the beauty of a woman’s body and how it was to measured for one’s pleasure by enjoying it fully, and this was all I wanted to do now—enjoy it, and I think Chris was feeling the same way for even though we were both a bit on the tipsy side we were fully aware of our responses, I had lost complete focus of the uncomfortable situation, as she did… ◊…now that she was almost completely stripped only her panties on, she curled up in a fetus position holding her legs and leaning back, then opened up her legs slowly… I thought what every on earth possessed her, yet who can predict women I told myself, and started to take off my cloths, quickly…getting out of this spill of sorts. I guess it is true, men like to observe, and women like to touch. I liked both. This was not dirty sex, this was pure sex, at its height, one might even say, it was like a painting; she painted the picture, she taught me how to enjoy what she had to offer. “I’m going to get it all off in a minute,” I said, it was difficult working in this cramped space… she chuckled, “Slowly please, I can wait…”she softly said as she rested her head back and I caught my breath, that is what she wanted, that is, for me to calm down, yet remain hard and possessed with her offering: I think we both had multiorgasms “I feel fine now –“ I said, adding, “cramped but fine…☺” Chris opened up her arms I couldn’t back away after that, could I? I told myself: I have a private room at the barracks…. Then said it out loud to her: “Of course, -- next time…” said she, and we continued to make love for the third orgasm for me, for her, perhaps five or six. We seemed to flop around the front seat finding the right position…’she‘s looking at me eeeeeeeee’, I told myself, I’m cramped, nothing to grab a hold of, her head leaning against the glass of the window. Without a word we continued: --my body heavy onto hers, my heart beating two-hundred ticks a minute, we both were hot, enmeshed in the moment, a lustful, and burning moment; I wanted to open the door, but feared the light going on and someone would see us, plus the air was cool, too cool. I had no escape we met each other’s eyes as I penetrated her. She looked again deep into my eyes as she tried to catch her breath, to make sure I was still alive I think. It was seemingly unfair for me to put her through this I thought, but the thought only lasted a half second, I found myself exploding … as my heart dropped to my feet, and again, and again, I exploded and burned as if I had opened myself up to a volcano; I had learned at that moment, the difference between happiness and pressure: happiness was listening to her talk before, and then came her smile, now the pleasure, sex; I hurt, this had never happened before. “Nice evening, isn’t it?” I said as I started pulling her body closer to me. “I hope you are not offended I am taking the lead?” said Chris. “Not at all,” I said, adding, “I’ll catch up.” “There are times,” said Chris, “when rules are made to be broken like now, them...mmm damn silly rules…” she pulled herself up a bit, “I stopped believing in those rules… this is one of those moments I want to remember…remember for a long time, even after I am dead.” As we tried to untwist our bodies, we caught ourselves laughing at our odd situation. We had made love, and became a little more sensitive with each other…a little more possessive of each other, I guess that is the nature of things in a relationship, they are made to progress, or stop, one or the other, and it was never to take place again in the front seat of a Mustang I knew…. She laid her cheek against my hand. “Chick.” “Yes?” “You realize don’t you, this can’t end here?” “There’s no reason for it to end, is there?” “No.” She spoke some German words I didn’t understand, German mingled with English I should say: then somehow, she went silent…maybe she was taking time to remember the moment, digesting it; I didn’t know, nor did I want to try to guess, I just looked at her, her smile it seemed to promise something, grace; instinct was in it also, around her small enclosed eyes, as they opened and shut slowly they were weaving a web I do believe, “It won’t end here, I promise.” Pleasant and agreeable-like a well-cultured woman she was, maybe too much for me, she opened the door, and dressed quickly, then got back in. “Want a cigarette?” I asked, sitting up straight. “No and neither do you. We are both restless it seems. Come over to me,” she started kissing me. As she released her lips from mine, she sat upright now, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and started blowing smoke rings into the air. “You know perfectly well, I’m very much attracted to you…yoouuuu… right?” “I hope so, I feel the some way.” “Luckily the wine deadens the bruises (discoloration).” I commented, she laughed and kind of stretched her back to put it back in place…”Me to,” she replied. “I wish all relationships could start like ours, it is like saying let’s drop all the game playing and pretend we are on the fifth date, and cut the crap; I like you Chick, I like you very much…” “The bruises will show up tomorrow,” I told Chris. Kind of saying maybe we should go, but neither one of us seemed to be all that bothered with that so we simply started kissing again after her cigarette brake…it was a long and needed pause for me, for a second breathe, a refractory period I needed [from uninterrupted sex]; that is, having multiple orgasms drains a man. I’ve learned also, women don’t need this rest period; so in time I’d learn how to last longer, and perhaps stretch the orgasms thinner but again, longer (three hours at the most; and I did). I thought in my head, she was having sex with me, and then that rich boyfriend she had; she was getting her multiorgasmic pleasures indeed, perhaps a secret to some women, for once they discover this, it is hard for any man to keep up with them, lest he be a superman of sorts. I did not even at that young age have the capacity to pass six organisms; five was my limit I learned. I was limp now; my penis had been as pointed as a scorpions tail a while ago. As scary as it started out for me I thought my reactions afterwards was cool, I seemed to be letting things take their natural course. It was a dark and colorless evening. Grossly romanticized in such an unimpressive way (so I thought in the back of my mind), yet Miss Chris was perfect. I thought to myself: maybe she might be annoyed with my lovemaking… I guess every man wants to please the woman, wife, girlfriend, the one he is making love to, or should want to please her, but most don’t; how can they, they pop too quickly. This is a fact, I’ve talked to men, and when they say they go so quick, no woman could get it on in that time period. A woman taught me how to hold myself from climaxing too early, thus allowing the woman to catch up—and therefore, allowing my female mate to get it on and enjoy. I know this evening went a little fast, but Chris was modest about it, like that other woman who had taught me, helped me, to help her, so we both could enjoy each other more; as my slowing down kept my penis hard longer, allowing her pleasure zone to become wider. This was something of the case in hand, but not completely. Most men think they make love better drinking, but it’s far from the truth. Most men do not know how to make love, no one taught them, so all they do is f*ck, and that is not love, that is, if anything, a quick climax, like eating a big fat burger, and wiping your mouth in its enjoyment and then leaving the café only to find out: you got indigestion, and had you went to a nicer restaurant, ate slower, you’d never forget the meal. I have experimented with that theory, and it is nine-minutes verse four-hours, I say four hours, but I knew in my head it was only one time I lasted four hours, two and a half was the norm. I was thinking now—as Chris kissed me—how I owe some women a bit of gratitude for allowing me to have my pleasure and not returning it to them; that’s the caretaker in a woman I think. But women just don’t know men can learn. And men are too bull-headed to let women teach them what pleases them. I had learned a good lover was worth his weight in gold and even maybe a little more: sometimes they can be irresistible. One could hardly tell her it wasn’t hastily done, our sex (to me it was) for it was, but she seemed to understand the circumstances, and we need not prove anything today, only allow our bodies to be sanctioned to the other. So I think we both felt. Lovemaking would improve as time went on. “I’m afraid my lover, we will have to find better accommodations next time,” Chris said, smiling at me. “Yes,” I hesitated, “absently,” I hesitated-- “I feel the same way.” “It’s a little hard in such a cramped car luckily we are both a little tipsy….” “I’m afraid I’m not, somehow I sobered up when you took your blouse off.” She smiled, with a grin. “Yes. I sense you have, do you really like me Chick?” “You are growing on me. And what is there not to like?” She was like a schoolgirl at times, needing to be encouraged, to grow up, and needed to be admired. But she didn’t need permission to live, she was taking that—but I’m learning to appreciate women more, I told myself, and it seems the more I show appreciation, the more they respect me, and to be quite frank with myself, I need respect. And why not … the world will give it, if you demand it, and if not, let that part of the world go; so my second self, my mind’s eye, told me. But then as I looked at her, if she really felt she was on death row, with cancer, maybe I was just a remedy for a while, and if so, so what, maybe I needed a remedy to make it through my time here in Germany; so seemed just to me. 8 The Spider and The Web A warm-wind had picked up it seemed, and April and May in Germany was a paradise of light-cool sunrays, it was a spring never to forget, Chris and I were growing on one another, like white on rice. More community drinking fairs were picking up and Chris and I tried to make a few, drink it up and eat and just go with the flow; it was a good time for living. Chris and I were known throughout the guardhouse-barracks as lovers and a heat wave at that. She seemed to have a charm with my soldier friends, and often drove her German boyfriend’s Mercedes car to the gate, and about, showing off kind of, not only to me, but it seemed at times going out of her way to show it to the other guards. Most of my friends thought she had two cars, I simply did not up date them, if they were not in my way of thinking or inner circle—why squander my time; and in most cases they didn’t have a need to know; but Ski and a few other of my friends knew the truth. I felt: plus, I felt: why not let Chris make an impression at the guard shacks, if it helps her ego so be it. I do not think I was envious, rather amused. I’m sure somewhere along the line I’d have to deal with envy, but who at my age is envious, for what, I have a lifetime to catch up. She flirted with the guards, and they all thought it cool. At night, if I had to work, she would bring me by a sandwich while on duty; in one way she got the guys a little jealous, or in lack of a better word, annoyed. And sometimes she would simply walk into barracks, which had about fifteen-guards some running around half naked from the shower room to their room, while others went visiting. She’d come knocking on my door. She’d spend the night with me, it was an improvement from the car, and for some reason we only went over to her house once in the following two months. I knew we were not fooling anyone at the guard-barracks, but we pretended to be secret about it anyway. penis elargement tip best penis elargement pills penis enlargment without pills vimax pill natural penis enargement technique medical penis elargement herbal penile enlargement vimax penis enlargement picture homemade penis enlargement

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