I pressed the button. Down she came.She was ready for me this time. “I never slept with Umberto!”Umberto Fostellini, the maestro. The honoured gue...t-conductor of this farce, and the dog who was sniffing around my wife’s back-end.“This is an intervention,” I said calmly. “You were about to fall off the wagon ... again.”She went strangely still, the cello between her knees, her arms resting on it. I could see she wanted to ignore that remark, but she was ever the curious little kitty, was. For a few minutes I stoked him slowly watching myself. I breathed a heavy sigh and returned Harry to his nylon sanctuary. Then I smoothed my dress down but the temptation was too great and I rubbed my hands over my ass and then my thighs. I pulled up my dress again this time to reveal my white slip and I rubbed it on my nylon covered legs. Then I grabbed my brandy and returned to the living room. I stopped to get the remote and turn on the T.V. I pressed the mute button and thought of Nicole’s. More

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