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My legsshaking. My breath ragged in my chest. I was naked andhard and I could see her from where I stood. She wasasleep, lying on her back, one arm thrown over her face,the other trailing off the bed and to the floor. Herbreasts rose and fell with her breathing. Her face sosoft and luminous in the darkness. I stood and watched and squeezed my cock in my fist,pulling and milking, building my arousal, drinking herin as my cock-tip drooled down its shaft makingsquishing sounds as my hand traveled up and down, up anddown.The sense of transgression and trespass I felt when Istepped across the threshold and into her world wasprofound and unbearably erotic. I haven’t been alonewith her like this since I was a boy and she was ateenager. Breathing her air and moving hard and nakedthrough the space that she occupied evoked memories andfeelings that shuddered through the twisted, pumpingstick of meat between my legs. I felt them as if theywe’re new again. I experienced them as. He hated this man passionately. He was a miserable little shit, with his white shirt and cheap tie and ornamental hard-hat—he was one of those middle-class failures who somehow found jobs bossing grunts like him around."You've been fucking up a lot lately, Torch," the piece-of-shit said. "You better get your act together. I'm tired of this lazing around bullshit, you hear me!"George glared at the small round man but rather than say what he wanted he turned back to his saw, which immediately drowned out the piece-of-shit's voice when it fired to life.God, what a fucking asshole, George thought. But the worst thing was that the dickwad was right: he had been screwing up. This morning, for instance, he'd been late to work. Earlier that week he'd left early. And today he'd been assigned an easy task, to help cut 100 crossbeams to specification, but still he was way behind.It's that slut-of-a-whore brat's fault, he thought angrily. His fingers tightened around the handles of the blade..
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She then took my hand and we began strolling toward the back of the building and the entrances to the locker rooms. “You really do love swimming, don’t you?” Fran asked as we walked hand in hand. “I really do. The water is something I’ve always enjoyed. Ever since I was a little kid, I would spend as much time at the pool as my parents would let me.” “Have you ever done it in the water?” “You mean have sex?” I asked. “Yeah, have you ever?” “No, I mean, last week with you right down here in the shallow end was the closest I’ve ever come.” “I see the way the girls look at you,” Fran said. “You mean to tell me you haven’t taken advantage of the way they throw themselves at you to have some fun in the water?” “Believe it or not, I haven’t had or even dated any of the girls from here.” “Not one?” “Nope. I had my high school girl friend, but we broke up last fall. I told you. You know all about that,” I said. “I remember. I just thought you might have, you know, had somebody since.”.

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