The steamy back window was alight with flashing red and blue lights. After a hurried re-dressing and a stern lecture from the trooper about trespassin... we drove home. When I dropped her off, Rachael gave me a peck on the lips, smiled and said ‘it was fun’ and ‘we should do this again sometime.’ She turned and walked up to her door without looking back. The porch light blinked out. Back on my computer at home, I changed my Plenty-Of-Fish profile again. It now reads: Marv’s the name, accounting’s. "It's bad enough I have to deal with this sexual work environment, and I've been more than patient with you, but I'm calling bullshit now." Wait, don't you like girls, though, Jill?" she pondered, coming toward me."Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to see you two making out all the time. Should I just consider myself lucky that you two don't have sex out here? I swear if you lie and say you don't have sex in your office, I'm gonna scream." So, fucking what if I make out with my wife out here?. More

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