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I remembered myself brazenly dropping my dress, taking off my knickers for her. I re-felt the thrill I had taken in dressing for her before we’d left or the party. My hand was hers when I remembered the soft leather and slowly stroked myself where I had so vigorously and wantonly ‘humped’ her leg. I came then and again later in bed, thinking of her, reliving the glorious orgasm that had lifted both of us off her sheets. Monday For me, the week after a play is usually something of an anti-climax. On this occasion, however, I felt no such thing. Rather I was alive and energetic and went to work with a light heart, which must have manifested itself to my colleagues. Mike Love was the blind colleague who had made me hoot with laughter when I had first met him because he described himself as “the Love that dare not read its name.” Oscar Wilde would have been delighted by that. ‘You seem somewhat perky this morning. Not your usual Monday self at all. Did the play go well on Saturday?’. Well, acquaintance. ‘We aren’t being followed,’ she commented at one point after I’d looked behind for about the hundredth time. ‘I’ve been watching, and I’d know.’ ‘This is it,’ Cammy finally told me, standing in front of a little walk-up duplex. ‘Just don’t say too much, okay?’ ‘I’ll be good, I promise.’ I gave her a quick hug since she seemed a little nervous, and we walked up onto the porch. ‘Mommy!’ screamed a little toddler, before we’d even made it through the door. ‘Mommy’s home!’ He propelled himself straight at Cammy, and she swooped him into her arms and then lifted him for a sloppy kiss. ‘J.J.!’ she cooed. ‘How’s my little man? Did you miss me?’ A man, this one full-sized, stepped out from the kitchen and gave us an appraising look. ‘An unexpected dinner guest, Cameron? Couldn’t you have called?’ Cammy lowered the boy back to the floor. ‘Sampson, this is Lily, she’s an associate of mine. Lily, this is my husband, Sampson, and my son, J.J.’ Perfunctory introductions.
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