We were both dressed only in panties.Amber was laying on her back with a pillow under her head. She was breathing hard, like she'd just ran up a fligh... of stairs. I was laying beside her. I wanted to talk but I wasn't sure what to say. I guess that was because Amber wasn't saying a word. Again, I could smell her womanhood. Her sex smelled like mine, after I've been masturbating. When I inhaled her scent, I felt something stirring deep inside me.Then Amber started to cry. She wasn't balling out. “I can’t really say Ma’ ... um Shirley. I mean it wouldn’t be right to say their names.”“Well, at least he has some discretion,” said Shirley to her imaginary friend. All women have one of those. They talk to them pretty regular too.She looked me dead in the eye. “Do you love Donna Bobby?”“Um ... that’s not an easy question to answer,” I said. She hadn’t brought out that filleting knife and I was beginning to get interested in the fact that this was a conversation, and not a screaming match. “I. More

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