Soap opera and reality TV gourmand that she was, Trisha could no longer quite claim complete innocence as she eagerly resumed her course toward the rear of the house.
Real night was falling now. With the lights over the pool and patio unlit it was mostly dark back there. In contrast illumination poured from the gym: the shades were still up. Carrying her highball in one hand and her excuse for snooping in the other, drunk on new experiences and a more familiar exhilaration, young Sprat followed curiosity worse than that which had killed many a cat on her journey of discovery toward the secluded master wing of the Mitchell mansion. Unperturbed, Abby’s purrs spurred her on undeterred.
***
Oh Goddess, this was it! It was finally happening to him!
Beyond the ecstasy of hope and joy Ed fe
