“Can you pass my shirt?”She left her jeans unbuttoned, the belt buckle pulling them open, her underwear inviting. I passed her shirt and as she s...retched up to pull it over her head, her stomach lengthened and her breasts rose and fall, her whole body rippling like the leanest of the big cats.“I’d better pay” I turned and opened the curtain.“Just stuff them in a bag and run.” She offered, casually.I looked round at her and she read my confusion, laughing at the thought that I might think she. It appeared that my weekend was summed up in the admonition, ‘No Nookie For You!’.I was puttering around upstairs, folding laundry and putting towels away, when there was a vigorous pounding upon the front door. I tucked a pistol into my belt (‘Be Prepared’ being The Scout Motto), and went to answer it.Ben was there, and Ben was pissed. Well, he appeared angry as well as intoxicated. If I heard him correctly, he had found two positive home pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter, and assumed. More

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