In my senior year at college my bf was killed in a car wreck. I went into a depression and flunked out. I got a job working at a bakery. That is where I met Mariana. She was half Mexican half white. She came from a broken home and was abused by her mother's live in bf.

What a combination. But we got along and moved into a small house. She was my little sister, and I had to take care of her. The landlord hung around when we paid the rent. He looked at her, he wanted her. Nothing I could do stopped him. One day he got her. I hated him for that, but she gave into him so there was nothing I could do.

The day came when he wanted me. I stood there and let him take me into our room and have sex with me. You can't say no, right then you are his for the taking. He gave us a break when we got late on our rent, he let us borrow his car if ours was on the fritz. Sex was pleasant and at times unpleasant. You were there for him to get off and then you just went back to do what you were doing before he interrupted.

We never thought about seeing another man. Not once. We knew we weren't ever going to be with anyone else. He went on a three week trip with his college graduating class, and we counted the days for him to come home. When he came back I made love back to him. Mariana was more understanding about the dual relationship. It never bothered her. It wasn't until his trip that I gave myself to him, but she had given herself very early on.

For five years we had a relationship with him. We got older and our needs for him slowly faded away. He is still our friend, like an uncle, but we now are focused on one another, and from time to time a male lover. He was important in helping us overcome our issues. For a couple of those years I believe I was really in love with him.