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I started the engine and backed out of the garage. Then once more I looked around before getting out of the car to close the garage door. Then I hurried back to my car and got in. I backed out of the lane way and headed to the school. For some reason both my black neighbors wavered in my mind and I felt my pussy getting wet. I wondered what these two hot looking men would look like nude and what they would want to do to me. I had never thought of these things all the years they had lived around us. What was going on with me.At least my husband bought me this car but he was the one that maintained it. He got it so I could go shopping and take his precious Sandra to any appoints she might have. The car was more for his precious Sandra than for me. I was just the driver attached to the car for her needs. Don't get me wrong I love Sandra. She is a good daughter but her father spoils her rotten. What he refused to get me he opened his wallet for her. I guess he knew Sandra. As it cools, I drink a glass of orange juice. Everything comes down to this day and it’s just like any other day. I pull apart one of the CD hills and, as often happens, find ‘The Greatest Hits of the Grateful Dead’ on the first try. I put on Track 2: ‘I Will Get By.’ Then I add half and half to my coffee and half a tea-spoon of sugar. It is a great existential mystery to me that the sugar that in my childhood days seemed pure Prana now seems a necessary poison, gleaming menacingly at me. I force the coffee down with a mixture of exultation and revulsion. It’s actually the most expensive coffee available in this posh shithole of a city but coffee and I have long had a love/hate relationship, something like the Soviet/Nazi pact, only much more enduring. Next, I start making breakfast. I crack the eggs agressively: ten eggs and not a shard in the bowl. I prepare the whole breakfast like Cobain performed ‘Unplugged,’ lazily and perfectly. I set up the table in front of my nameless.
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’ Juliette looked at me with a vulnerability that had been missing to this point. I had an instinctively protective feeling. ‘OK, Patrick, here goes.’ She looked down at her empty cup and said: ‘I have only had intercourse one time in my life. I want to try it again and I thought you would be the man. After tonight, definitely. I want to try again with you. Are you OK with that?’ Absorbing this was difficult. Trying to do so and act relatively normal was impossible. I decided not to overwhelm Juliette with questions and requests for explanations. I said, ‘Yes. Of course.’ A long, really long pause later: ‘And my erection hiding under the table would fly off and beat me senseless if I said no.’ Juliette smiled broadly. I offered a happy-to-be-with-you smile back to her. ‘Juliette, I’m not going to ask you to explain anything you don’t want to go into. But can you let me know, was the first time horrible or non-consensual or something of that sort?’ ‘Thanks for not barraging me with.

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