" I impatiently waited for my gourmet feast to arrive.Needless to say, by the time the doorbell rang, I was hungry and horny. I hadpopped in the video...and Ron Jeremy was already boffing Ginger’Lynn in a giantbowl of french salad. Both were smothered in mayonnaise and pickle relish (ofall things!).The doorbell rang. I lethargically lifted my body from my Laz-Y-Boy chair andslowly, cooly, walked to the door. (Mustn’t let on any show of anticipationto those pimple faced, lecherous pizza boys.) I. What was she doing here?Bending, inhaling her sensual scent, I drew her hair back off her face and kissed her cheek gently. "What are you doing here?" I asked softly. "Aren't you supposed to be at gymnastics?"Her smile broadened, eyes opening to look at me, such beautiful pale blue eyes.It may have been the residual frustration still residing in me from two unsuccessful days of trading. It may have been the frustration of the drive home. It even may have been frustration at not having her with. More

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