Yet his pants were made with extra strength in that department for thatreason. Markus was...quite simply, hung, and he didn't want to show offin public or in business meetings. He checked himself out in the mirror,stretching and flexing for a bit."Nice."Markus strolled over to his personal computer and sat down. Booting itup, he searched for a video editing program, and checking if the webcamworked. Satisfied, he hit record."Hey. Do you like this? Feels good, doesn't it?" He began monologuingwhile leaning back in the black leather chair. "When we met, this was allI wanted. And now I've got it. All of it."Markus reached for his upper lip with both hands, grabbing it tight, andpulling at it with his might. It stretched, distorting his skin and faceas it crumpled backwards. His head seemed to expand for a moment as thismoment of horror continued. Underneath Markus's face, Andrea's appeared.She took a moment to show it off to the camera, winking before lettingthe pressure on Markus's. Now your real men's eyes look away, eh? Why do you look away? Are you afraid of some blood?Or are you disgusted with a man showing his feelings?Anne and I have been married for almost nine years.I guess it is a cliché to say they were the best years of my life. But they were. They were magical and yet so very common. There was the simple ease of being together. The understanding. There was the warm, uncomplicated shelter of her love. The sex too. Sex has always been important to us. Anne was like this delicately tuned instrument. A Stradivarius violin, say. Or a Bechstein piano.Just playing her took my breath away. Oh yes, I did love to play her. Did. (Have to get used to this past tense. I'll learn, don't worry.)But Anne was gorgeous in so many other ways. It was a party to simply sit with her at the end of a working day. Just discussing what happened, the little things. Knowing that she'd listen and hear whatever was important to me.And for me to sit and listen to her common sense,.
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