I followed her into the living room, and there she was, stark nekkid, cozily sprawled in my beanbag chair watching Geraldo, with the sound turned up t... 140 decibels. She'd pillaged the fridge of my best Chianti and was drinking it straight from the bottle. She lit up one of her cheap Mexican cancer sticks, Delicados, I think they're called, and soon the room was reeking of acrid cigarette smoke and stale farts.She had thrown herself together a sloppy sandwich from the last of my good deli. It doesn’t hurt that she’s sexy as hell and all my friends have made it perfectly clear over the years how much they’d all like to get in her pants.I went to my place. I tied Taylor’s Softail securely in the back of my pickup and drove out to his place in the woods. Taylor came out and helped me get his bike off the truck and put it in the shed.While we were unloading his bike I asked him how it had gone with his houseguests.He told me how hard it has been to stay out of his guest room last. More

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