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“I am,” I admitted, at which point the girl coughed a bit, turned a bit red, and handed me the petition for divorce.“You have been served, sir,” the lady had the decency to be a bit embarrassed about it all, “My apologies, sir. Especially so close to Easter.”“Nothing for you apologize about, miss. You’re just doing your job. I’m a grown man. I’ll deal with it,” I smiled in spite of my pain, actually surprising the girl, even as she could see the hurt in my eyes.“Well, I really am sorry, anyway. I know that look. It’s the one that Mom got when Dad had her served with divorce papers, too. I really wish ... well, it’s hard to explain,” the girl actually hugged me, to my surprise.“Thank you. That was ... very kind. Are you sure that you’re in the right business, if you don’t mind such a personal question?” I asked the young lady, “This is going to happen a lot in this job for you, I’m just warning you, and it takes a certain callousness to let it wash over you.”“Can you ... maybe find me. ‘I don’t like rules either.’ She traces his hard square chin. ‘Let’s call it a request.’ He stretches eager and she flows wet beneath their clothes of social convention. They shed them easily, each trying to undress the other, but urgency demand they finish undressing themselves until they have nothing left between them except the open indulgences of each other. They fall expectant to the floor, she on her back, he kneeling astride her legs. He relishes the form of this woman he will soon enter, letting her see the full form of the man about to enter her. He does not mind she can see him risen strong, hard flesh for her to enjoy, and she does not mind that he can look between her legs to see her glossy in the night, soft flesh for him to enjoy. He marvels at the pliancy of her lips when he leans to kiss her, how easily open they come to his, how greedily they nibble his. His fingers graze across the gentleness of her breasts and his tongue savors nipples rising bold. He lets his.
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