“Somehow, I believe that might be an understatement.” He chuckled some more.Karen came in then and said, “Dinner is served.”The delay in eatin... had harmed nothing. After the prayer, we dug in. Dinner was a simple but very, very good stew with some sudden different flavors in it. Missus Mason had garlic bread with it. I said, “This is excellent! Love, make sure you bring this recipe to our marriage.” I grinned broadly. “We can’t live on love alone!”Karen looked at me and said, “We could try!”. He’d made nuances turn to notions. Turn to fantasy. Then to structured thoughts. Then to precise, urgent, needs.Her nipples ache. Erectile tissue does its job, and in her personal midnight recollective cinema, she shudders as she sighs. She rubs her wrists. The marks have gone now, but phantom ropes still grip and bite her now, and that cunt Pavlov does his job- even when the stimulus is an imagined one. With irritating causal certainty, she seeps.Her mouth is dry.The fridge, door open, whirs. More

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