Waldo Cunningham straightened his tie, unconsciously and stood, more or less in the center of the room, next to the long table they'd sit around while...they deliberated. At forty-five, Waldo felt like he was in the prime of his life. He was an accountant, by trade, an active member of his church and the rotary club, and now was going to be part of a jury in a murder trial. This fact simply added to the impression in his mind that he was a pillar of the community. Marge, his wife, had wanted him. I looked at her closely for the first time. She looked to be about my age, or maybe a couple of years younger; she had short black straight hair with bangs over her face in what I assume was the traditional Chinese style; and had the most beautiful brown eyes. But she had the figure of a pencil; I could hardly see a chest on her. Still, she was really, really cute!I took her hand and led her into my bedroom. Frankly, though, I was terrified; I was about to fuck a girl who I had just met less. More

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