The officer eyed him suspiciously as he passed, but thankfully turned the opposite direction.Hands at 10 and 2, and his eyes constantly darting to the...speedometer, he carefully made his way toward the edge of town.She must have noticed the street lights thinning out, because she sat up, peeked over the console between the front seats and asked, “Where are we going?”“My house. Is that okay?”“Is anybody home?”He shook his head. “No. Mom and Dad are out of town.” Though he’d caught hints of it. About one and a half hours later I saw headlights through our living room window as a car pulled into our driveway soon followed by my wife walking in the front door. She looked different from normal, a bit disheveled and yet relaxed. I asked how she was which she replied tired and sore as she headed towards the bedroom. In a matter of minutes I could hear the shower running. Late that night I attempted to have sex with Marisa but she showed no interests telling me she wasn't in the mood. Not. This time it was early morning and I was in a strange but domestic bed. This time I knew immediately that I was Angela Tidy, aged nineteen and that this was reality, not a dream. I found my little narrow watch on the bedside table and saw that it was almost eight o'clock. I could hear my hosts moving around on the landing so I propped myself up on the pillows, knowing I could not go back to sleep. I stared across the room at the pile of clothes I had left on a chair, especially at the bra on. ."Hey Joey, what's up?" She said cheerfully.I asked casually, "Got any plans this Saturday?"I used to work with Bobbie and we had a 'special' relationship that went well beyond the workplace. It also continued even after I retired."Nope, I'm totally free. Why, do you want me to move in or are you just horny?" Now do you understand what I meant by 'special'?Somberly, I told her, "Wet ink, remember?" I was referring to my most recent divorce."I'm having a party. Want to come?" Is there going to.
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