She wondered if he knew how she loved him, and how she hated him for the woman in the white bathing suit, and for the red hair in his bed. She looked...again at the sheets, with her small fists balled tightly at her sides, and wondered how he touched her, how he kissed her. Did his hands touch her the way her body demanded that she be touched? Did he press his lips against her lips? Did the red haired woman offer up her lips, or surrender to the demand of his lips? She turned from the. ‘We were humping away like rabbits on our couch when she came home early from work,’ she said. ‘She made him leave and I was grounded for two months. I think it was the best thing that ever happened to me,’ she asserted with a confident sigh. I gave her a puzzled look and she set about explaining her statement. ‘During the first month, I barely spoke to Mom. But during the second month, we slowly drew back together and had some long conversations about sex.’ Running her fingers through her. More

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