” There, I’d said it.“It’s going to take some work, Mister,” she said, her hands still squeezing my shoulders. “Not just you, but me too.�...�I sighed in relief. “Okay ... so ... can I offer you a glass of wine? It’s almost happy hour.”“I don’t give a shit if it’s ten in the morning, I’m ready for a glass of wine,” she laughed.I laughed too, feeling the release of tension. I reached for an open bottle of Cabernet and poured us each a glass.“To reconstruction,” I said, holding my glass up to. Paulette’s face left no doubt of what had. happened. It was real, all right. She was in ecstasy! Then she put down the whip and kissed each little bruise on his legs, licked them warmly. All pain disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. And Paulette was smiling! A sort of victory smile…His head was bursting for sleep. Shortly afterward, he felt her on his stomach. Vaguely, he knew he had to get with it. He wished he hadn’t played so long because when a man doesn’t. More

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