“He split, years ago. We were in Catalonia – or maybe it was Tuscany. A very fit young trapeze artist joined us and, long story short, they went o...f together.”I’d opened a bottle of Merlot, and now filled glasses for Jazz, my wife, and me. We considered the girls to be a bit too young, although when there was just us, the girls were allowed a little wine with their dinners.“Anyway, it’s lovely to see you both,” I said, smiling. I wasn’t being false: Jazz and I had history – albeit about fifteen. Good thing I was wearing jeans too. I didn't want my boner to betray me.Her scent was still attacking my senses, but I wanted more. I was nervous, but I asked anyway. She showed me where the bathroom was and she returned to the kitchen. I went in and shut the door behind me. I looked for a lock but there wasn't one. It didn't matter. Even if she caught me, chances are she would just throw me out. I went through her laundry basket, searching for a pair of used panties, maybe a bra, or even. More

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