He was tall, six one, sitting there in a blue-stripe shirt, open collar, and black slacks. His short-cropped, brown hair graying at the sides marked h...m for being closer to fifty than forty. She wasn’t aware that she was gazing at him as he drank the bourbon, gazing at his lips. The masculine hands caught Daphne’s attention as he lay the gun on the table. Catching her eye he raised the empty glass a couple of inches. She thought she had learned the drill by now. Picking up a fresh glass she. The guilt of having rooted another woman while married was starting to surface as the food took hold and the grog wore off. I was truly miserable as I lay in the bath. I'd only lasted a week before I was off sticking the old boy wherever I could. The reality that I'd just had the best sex I'd ever had was not far in the back of my mind. I'm not sure if it was the weed, the booze, my lack of sleep or the good old Catholic guilt but I started to cry. I was a howling mess. The funny thing was. More

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