”She looked incredulous. “What do you mean, my stories? What are you talking about?”I gave a ruefully bitter laugh. “The stories you and your ...omen friends tell when we all get together.”We were still quite young, had been married six years with Bethy, our daughter, and had a lot of friends who were very much like us – yuppies I suppose is the best word, although I don’t like thinking I am one.So every weekend, we would all hang out at one or other of our homes, or head to the lake or park for. I felt her body slump in surrender when she finally accepted the fact that these pictures will continue to exist.Throughout our conversation I have continued to explore her breast with my left hand. Now, accepting her surrender, my right hand moved slowly down to the shorts she’s wearing. I struggled for a moment with the button that’s stubbornly holding them closed. I lost patience after a brief struggle and decided to take charge again since it seems to be working out so well for me. “Fuck. More

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