A zipper."Andy, seriously?" I heard my son say. "Now?" Why not?" Andy replied. "Your mom's not home. Doesn't talking about all this give you a hard-on..." Well yeah, of course, but ... Ah ... what the fuck, huh? Why not?"Then I heard a second zipper. Oh, fuck. My son was gonna take it out.Ten minutes later I had sneaked back out of the house and into my car. I waited a few minutes, then came back in the house, making a lot of noise this time and calling out to tell Robert I was home.He and Andy. She wanted very much to catch up on years of abstinence, and I could not resist her, nor had I any reason to. Quite the opposite. We showered together on Sunday not long before I went home. She found new things to do with my body, and I found how much natural talent she had at them. But I did go home. Perhaps surprisingly, but perhaps not, she spent less time at my desk than in recent weeks, but seemed much happier when she did – and at other times, I heard from co-workers. Tina called me on. More

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