Taking off her glasses, Jane sighed and rubbed her eyes. Her expose on the treatment of the lunchroom workers was coming along nicely, but Jane always...dreamed of writing more fiction than fact. And not the "examining social injustices or human conditions" type of fiction, but the "melt your pants off, hot and heavy" type of fiction. There was definitely not an outlet for such writing in the prestigious private school she had attended all of her life. Jane let her mind wander over to the story. ”“That we could get things out of order, so to speak, but the two things implied each other in a way that couldn’t be unlinked.”“Yes. And that’s part of your struggle with me. You had that view when we went to Cincinnati. And so did I.”I smiled, “Things become much clearer now. We should have talked about this before.”“We didn’t understand,” Jocelyn sighed. “But the minute you pushed through my hymen, we both knew what it was supposed to mean. Consciously, that is. We both knew subconsciously. More

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