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Click here'I think it's just that you're hot.'
'Ha ha. Hot stuff.'
And so they continued. And continued.
And then, after the runaway train had gone over the hill, not once but twice, they lay there in a version post-connubial bliss, and Tom silently thanked the goddess of afternoons. 'I've missed you,' he said.
'Oh, I don't know. I think your aim was spot on. Certainly hit all the right bits as far as I'm concerned.'
Tom laughed. 'Tea?' he said. 'Or shall I just go and find some cold white wine? It's getting on towards that time.'
Andrea glanced at her watch. 'Gosh. That wasn't just a quick fuck, was it?'
'Are you complaining?' Tom said.
'No. You'll get no complaints from me.' And Andrea smiled a broad smile.
Tom went and got a couple of glasses of crisp, chilled Pinot Grigio. 'To afternoons,' he said, raising his glass.
'To afternoons,' Andrea echoed.
- COMMENTS
holliday1960over 1 year agoA choice bit from Sam Scribble's vast array of stories; You're a master of conversation, Sam. (Although, some may consider these exchanges mundane, I've discovered over time that THAT is the jewel in your crown of writing talent.) Discourse and intercourse are always a bit awkward, but your tales capture the nervous anxiety of an intimate 'You-had-to-be-there' moment with uncanny accuracy. 'Honesty is always the best policy' and you write with honest innocence and naivety that IS your signature style. Never deviate from that natural rhythm, Sam. It makes a lovely tale.
chytownover 1 year ago*****I love your style of storytelling. I loved Driving South and some of your others. Thanks for sharing your storytelling talent.
oldpantythiefover 1 year agoStrange little story. Not a fan of cheaters so this story won't be getting five stars. Maybe the next one will.
