Finally I moved... setting the box back down on some other boxes stacked everywhere. Sitting down on one, I began to purposely go through that box... ...igging into my recent past. A small book of pictures fell out to one side, and I picked it up. There we were... at the beach... in the park... in the back yard having a barbecue with the kids. Memories cascading past me, not letting me loose. I soon found myself crying.I cried for what I had lost in Becky's passing. I cried for losing Samantha,. "Was I a faggot?......did I suck cocks.....did I wear panties all thetime.....did I like getting my arse fucked......do cocks turn meon......."All these remarks were humiliating and making me very, very horny at herdebasement. It did however mean I was falling deeper and deeper into subspace. It was then I heard the front door slam and realized herboyfriend had come home. I had to admit I was very nervous at meetinghim. I wondered if he was simply going to beat me up for being a faggot.It did. More

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