She pushed her skirted bottom against my crotch, feeling for a way out.“Go on. Say it.”In the mirror, she looked me in the eye. Then looked away.�...�Jane,” I said to her. “Such a fresh shave for a sales conference?”The bell dinged. Before the doors slid open, I skinned her skirt back down. I saw the man who stepped in look her over, his gaze hitching for a moment on her stocking tops. Her bald and pantyless pussy remained our secret. But it hadn’t been meant for me.When she told me she was going. ’ I nod toward where the throng have stopped on the road just beyond the church gates, admitting defeat and preparing to stow Agnes into the back of the hearse. A light wind swirls from nowhere, blowing autumn leaves around our ankles. Grabbing the excuse to touch her again I lightly place a hand on her glossy brown hair. ‘C’mon Ruth, I’ll keep your wig on for ya, lets go!” Giggling, we zigzag wildly up the front drive of the church toward the carpark, her nudging my ribs, half heartedly. More

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