I watched as she unstrapped herself and clambered on the bed, sitting, her knees up, legs apart and with her back to the headboard. “My turn. Tong...e only.”Well, what’s a girl supposed to do, argue?~~~Dr Ruth Beckett wasn’t by any means the stereotypical archivist. She was about my age, tall, long-haired and quite striking if not beautiful. She was wearing jeans and a white cotton blouse with flat shoes and was still three or four inches taller than I. We had coffee which was surprisingly. I just didn't think it was possible anymore, not with Diane, and maybe not with anyone.Diane and I were both different people since the divorce. She was still living a life of celibacy. That I didn't understand at all. I had never asked that of her and it pissed me off when I thought about it. If it wasn't for her infidelity we'd still be together. It's like closing the barn door after the horses have escaped. I didn't know if she was doing it to show me she could be loyal or if she had given. More

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