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Quite frankly, I was intoxicated by my lover, and hoped with all my heart that he felt the same way about me. I snuggled up to his n***d warmth and listened dreamily to his breathing and shook in involuntary delight as I remembered our lovemaking. At last I had found my mate, and I imagined my great-grandmother’s joy when I had sung to her. The dear old thing had said I would know, and with that thought, I fell blissfully back to sleep.
It was Friday again, and I could look forward to another delightful working lunch with Heather. I collected her at the intersection of Pitt and Hunter Streets, and as it was a nice day, I drove with the hood down. I was happier than I could recall, and to that extent, it must have showed. Heather noticed it immediately. “Is it my imagination, or are yo
