‘It better not be what I think it is,’ Ann thought grimly. ‘For Chris’s sake, it better not be.’ — Chris walked into the living room, brac...ng himself for the pass he was sure Frieda would make. Maybe there would be tears, he did not know what to expect. But he knew that having her at his house was trouble. He saw Frieda seated in a corner of the room, legs crossed demurely, eyes hard. She had papers in her hands, and rose when Chris walked towards her. ‘Good afternoon Mr. Quentin,’ she said,. Or was he a disembodied spirit, maybe some kind of angel. But would an angel bringing God’s love be so sexy and down-to-earth? Angels weren’t supposed to be sexy, were they? Every time I’d think about his eyes, and his embrace, my nipples would grow erect and I’d feel moisture between my thighs. I wanted to maintain a sense of purity about the experience but my body, as I’ve already noted, has a mind of its own. By eleven o’clock on August twenty-third my thermometer read seventy degrees. In. More

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