Paying For It

ME

sen

ga

not her

of all

drought. The woman who had turned me out, leaving me sa

ga

e best sex

shuddered around me. The way her jazz-infused voice called my name each time she came undone. Walls so warm and ti

of a ten-year-old boy flung herself int

erself out of the woman-boy's emb

she was with, I had to laugh at Shelia's tone.

oss the room. The guy by her side?had?to come from football stock. He either played professionally

lve's, encased in black Italian leather and shinier than a newly minted penny, seemed to shudder the ground on which he w

unami had me nearly biting through the glass of my Champagne flute. He smiled down at her, and holding her hand up,

t long. Her bell tinkle giggle had

eaut

she wore, flared out, accentuating her small waist. The dress

kissed and suckled every inc

ing my heels and bowing. "This is Gertrude Eisenberg. You

meant long days and even?longer?nights. Her w

t her

fairs, including the one I had witness

inutive woman. "Yes, Mrs. Eisen

ts. "I hope you know your wife is a gift from heaven. She saved my little grandson, Abel." Gertrude's wat

a thin GOT r

d out, I wasn't