“Good movie?”“Not her best work.”“You took off the compress.”“It’s really a lot better.”So was she. Her cycle of self-flagellation w...uld inevitably return, but she seemed to be through the first emotional go-round already. That was a good sign. She smiled as I kissed the top of her head, nuzzling my nose into her dark hair. “Turn that off. Come talk to me while I’m cooking.”“Okay.” She followed me into the kitchen, taking a seat at the wide island. I tore off a paper towel and began patting dry. He had little body hair at all. I could see a massive erection growing beneath the white towel as soon as he laid eyes on me. Before we had even spoken to each other, he was at the door with a set of keys...locking it from the inside.When he dropped the towel, I realized something wasn't right. A terrifying look of lust crossed his face as I ran to the door he had apparently just locked. I tried to make it open. I told him I wanted to go home, I needed to leave. He stared back at me angrily.. Then Mom wanted to know when I had learned who Wynter was. I told her. In fact, I told her everything about that frat party. I wanted to see what she would say. Wynter was so embarrassed. But she grinned, too.I had noticed something while we sat there talking. Mom had been keeping her legs crossed tightly under her nightgown. She had great legs for a forty-five year old woman. And she had red hair, too. It seemed we were all Irish in this family. But while she was keeping her legs crossed I. The truth was simply that if things didn't go the way that I hoped they would I would be getting divorced anyway. The dirty trick? Setting my wife up to get fucked by some one else.I've known Francine for most of my life. We grew up just down the street from each other, attended school together from the second grade to high school graduation and we even went to the same college. I was in the next room watching for her parents when my best friend Max took her cherry and I always seemed to be.
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