‘I don’t really know how you are managing it.’ She said. ‘We aren’t.’ Ann looked at him. Jerome was lounging on the porch’s chair, a cig...rette in one hand and a whisky glass in another, like some lazy bohemian. He was tall, so his long legs seemed to take up a lot space, his lean and unshaven face gave him the look of a struggling artist. He was so effortlessly French. He didn’t look up. ‘I’m sorry.’ She blurted out with real sympathy. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he muttered, ‘it’s not possible to. I only wanted to see you wet and naked as you came out of the shower.But, when I saw you come out of the bathroom, wearing your red-colored low-neck blouse and black petticoat. I could only let myself be taken over by my evil cravings.I knew it was the same blouse you wore the day I saw you in the nude. I knew it was also the same piece of fabric you used to desperately, and unsuccessfully, cover your modesty when you stood in shock. I opened the door to the bathroom.You told me it was okay.. More

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