Glancing at her name, I quickly stood up uttering, “Welcome back Rachel!”. “Thanks,” she replied in passing continuing her way into the gym. F...ck was she ravishing, I was fucking infatuated. I was transfixed. I wanted her. I needed her. Looking through her profile on the computer, I noticed she was 23, lived right down the street, and, from the subtle text in her comments field, my supervisor's wife. “ROBS WIFE. DON’T FUCKING TOUCH.” read the comment. That’s where I must have met her. A few. ”“I had to try… let’s just put her in mom’s bed. It’s downstairs and she’s gone for the whole week. Tomorrow she can wash mom’s sheets and park her big ass in her own room. You sure you won’t stay?”“Uh, no… c’mon, let’s get her tucked in.”Cookie was less than two years younger than Don. She started drinking right after their dad had his fatal stroke, about six months earlier. She was closer to their dad than Don, possibly even their mother. He had always doted on Cookie and given her. More

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