"Why?" he asked."I told you, I didn't like my tits," I shrugged."But I thought, I ... Why didn't you get bigger ones?" He looked ready to cry."Why wou...d I do that?" I was starting to get angry, actually, realizing that my boyfriend liked my tits more than he liked me.We both looked down at my chest."I thought you'd be happy for me," I looked at him. "For us." Well, baby ... I'm not." He turned around and left.My father was there, just around the corner and I ran to him, hugging him as I started. The apartment was not atall what he expected, on the other hand. It was a rather spartanaffair, no seats, no couch, no carpet. Nothing that would suggest thatit was actually lived in.Instead there was a a network of tubes and wires on the hardwood,Curiously, every last one of them seemed to be leading into a room withan open door. When Jean stepped inside, there was an odd, kind ofacrid smell on the air that he couldn't quite put his finger on."Of course, you paid well, so the punctuality was. More

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