His eyes are attached to my tits by invisible wires. When I lean back his head comes forward. We have a third beer. I’m getting giggly, need a pee. ... move to the right, to the end of my bench. The old guy’s wires have moved to my skirt. I sit at the edge of the bench, so he can see just inside my skirt. His eyes are locked on like radar. I bend over to adjust my shoes. As I straighten up my skirt rides up and he gets a good look at my thong. I open my legs. He must be able to see the hair. That didn't matter, either. At that moment, Lynn couldn't even remember how many days they had been married, or how long they had been staying in this furnished, attic apartment while she crammed for her nursing boards, the gruelling, day-long test that would, if she passed, make her a registered nurse. Since moving in, Lynn's time had been divided between trying to review what she had studied for the last four years, visiting and being visited by friends and family and making love with her. More

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