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‘I can’t hear you. Who is this?’ –This is Dan.– ‘Dan,’ she sputtered fully awake. ‘Daniel? You’re calling me? You’re calling me.’ ‘Daniel. It’s,’ she glanced at her clock, ‘One thirty A M! Why are you calling me?’ ‘I didn’t even think you had my number.’ –I know what time it is. The bartender had a watch.– ‘Bar… how much did you drink?’ –A lot, but I still remember your number, so….not enough?– The voice now seemed more familiar with the slow careful way that he pronounced his words. The sounds faded. She figured he walked outside. If she hadn’t heard the effects of alcohol earlier, she would have sworn he was sober. –I understand why you went out with him. I should have told you everything. Things would be so different, right now. You would have been with me, tonight.– ‘Dan, if you wanted to talk to me, you should have done it before. You made yourself very clear.’ –I tried at the shop, remember? I’m trying, now, Jo. I’m a moron, I don’t figure things out too quickly. Come and talk. Mr. Paul. I didn't think you'd be back this soon." "I'm back late. Anyway, there are other people around here, other cabins." "But they're mostly empty except on weekends." "Put your top on," I re-stated. She obeyed as I walked quickly up to the cabin. I felt my cock hardening in my pants, and fought to turn my mind to other things. She had one hell of a body. She was small, but man, what curves! She had a helluva good set of tits, too. No, no, no. I couldn't think of that! I did my best to stay away from her, and to keep my eyes and mind off her. She stayed in that damn bikini until evening, when she changed into, not the nightshirt, but a pair of cotton bikini panties, and a tank top. Again, it was hard to criticize her, to say anything to her. My ex-wife had worn such things around the house. But she wasn't my ex-wife. I didn't say anything, and pretended to ignore her as she made herself a snack, then sat down on the sofa. The tank top was tight across her chest, and when.
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