I was getting boiled alive inside the car.I was tired myeyes were drowsy and I feeling suffocated. The driver never gave a damn about mycondition. He ...ept driving pretending like I never even existed. Can’t blamehim, even he wanted to get back home. He looked like someone in mid 30’s,father of 2 small k**s probably, No mush thank god.He did not fit the looks of apsychopath serial killer who hunts overworked, underpaid, bladderfull,suffocated, tortured, drowsy programmer on her way back home in. "You like the way women taste? I'll bet you do. How about men? Do youlike the way men taste?"I didn't like the way this interrogation was going, but I couldn't turnit in another direction. I had to be Jennifer, a woman, Jessica'sgirlfriend, comfortable enough about sex to walk in on a naked coupleand then sit down and chat with them. I was a woman. I had topersuade myself or no one else would believe me. If Hal caught on thatI was Jessica's despised husband, the ridicule I'd have to. He managed to open his door and walked straight to his bedroom where he gently laid her on the bed. With only the moon for light, Brian gazed at the woman before him. He reached down and untied her robe, sliding it back to reveal her womanly body. Her large, white breasts seemed glow in the moonlight. She had a narrow waist and beautiful curved hips. Her tender mound was bare, and looked as if it were soft to touch. Rachael sat up easing the robe off her shoulders. She reached up for Brians. Mrs. P was stirring behind me, and when I turned to help her down, I and realized that my jeans were around my ankles. ‘Get dressed and go home,’ she ordered as she pushed my extended hand away and hopped to the floor. My jacket was at my feet. I picked it up and found the display, then inched toward the back door. The telephone began to ring. ‘What’s this about you needing an aspirin?’ Marcie asked as I came in. She stood at the far end of the house at her bedroom door, dressed only in a.
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