I even sent her a photo of mine.She sent me photos of her also. Things went like that for some days. I thought of taking it to the next level. One day...I asked her about the day when I hugged her while she was taking my book. She said she remembered the incident very well. She backed out then because she was scared about somebody seeing us.I asked her would she back out again if I hugged her if no one is seeing us? She said it’s okay. I was happy to hear that. This gave me hope for me getting to. Can’t you see that?“You mean…”“I mean part of me isn’t dreading seeing him next week. Part of me is looking forward to it!”“Amanda!”“It’s true,” she started into my eyes. “Right now, part of me actually wants to be Andy’s whore!” Chapter TwelveI woke later than usual the next morning after a few hours of troubled sleep. It took a moment or two for the reality of our new situation to rush in on me. The bed next to me was empty and I could hear the shower running close by. My wife must be ridding. It will come to no good in the end.Your kindred soul, PaulineOctober 6, 1894Good Friend Pauline,Let me say first of all that it would be rather presumptuous of me to advise you on such matters. I am not, after all, one of that tribe of Yellow Press scribblers who have attained a measure of notoriety by dispensing soothing bromides and shopworn nostrums to care-burdened readers. Moreover, we van Burens are in the habit of keeping our own counsel. You, however, have grown so very dear to me over. Kathy slipped out of her house coat and went to the dresser drawer. Quietly she opened it and removed six candles. Placing three on each night table she lit them, she also opened the bedroom curtains a couple of inches so that the glow of the street light would help brighten the room. With everything in order she returned to the bed, but rather than wake Bill as I had expected she instead looked to the closet, smiled, and proceeded to caress her own body. She started with her breasts, massaging.