You are a man. You are 32, you turn 33 this September. You are in your fourth job since you left campus. Or you have been promoted to a cadre in your organization where you enjoy better perks. You are not married. But you do have child-a son-with your long-term girlfriend, who affectionately calls you, ‘my baby dad’. Still things might work out. You might marry her. Your son is a chip off the old block-copy pasted.
You are fairly tall, fairly handsome (some women when they learn the fatness of your wallet often claim you are the hottest man alive), and you do have an active life (means you often bed colleagues and that single neighbor who lives down the block). You occasionally go to the gym, that means you have some admirable biceps and puffed up chest.
Two Weeks Ago
Two weeks ago, your 23-year old, petty…
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