She was a very attractive curly-haired redhead, wearing a nicely fitted blue cashmere sweater and slim gray wool pants over black high-heel boots."Of ...ourse not, Mr. Burns, but Ms. Peters left instructions that no paying client should go unfed!"So I took her out to lunch and discovered that she was a single mom of a two year-old, a Chicago native, and as smart as they come. We walked through the snow to a local soup and sandwich place and sat for half an hour enjoying the warmth of the place,. Hold it ... winter clothes ... arrgh.”“AHH...”When she was finished, she ran out to the SUV and hauled in the last suitcase. Edgar had hauled the rest.“Thank you, Edgar.”The whirlwind coasted to a stop, handed me an envelope and wound up again ... kitchen ... refrigerator door opened and shut and mayhem in the kitchen commenced. She came out with a bologna ‘sammich’ with every bit of trimmings she could find and a glass of milk. I was just opening the envelope.The letter read, ‘Your turn. She. "I wouldn't mind at all," and I didn't. His surprisingly soft and pliant lips caressed mine, kissing me sensually. I was surprised at the emotion in his kiss, the way he expressed a longing in that simmering brush of flesh that sent my mind into that place where carnal desire tempts. That kiss created a slow, simmering burn I knew would need attention soon. A sizzling warmth now simmered in my belly and grew outward. I felt hot and stifled, ready to tear at my clothes to relieve my itch with. He asked if I wanted a drink and I did. He showed me around the first floor … living room, kitchen, spare bedroom … but not upstairs. When I inquired about the upstairs he said, “Oh that’s just my bedroom up there.” A few drinks later I’m starting to wonder what’s going on then he asks me if I’d like to spend the night. “You can sleep down here in the spare room,” he says. I look at him puzzled. “I’m not into that anymore,” Dick tells me. A little shocked, and more than a little disappointed,.