The two women took their seats. Emilie on the couch and Mavis in the easy chair across from her. I smiled."I think maybe we've got things a little bac...wards here," I said. I was still standing. They looked askance at me."Shouldn't Mavis be sitting on the couch so I could sit next to her?" I said. Both of the women flushed."Oh—oh!" said Emilie. "Yes, yes, of course. I wasn't thinking. Just habit, I guess." They switched places. I moved to the couch and sat right next to my wife's best friend. I. She began reading where she had left off.I abruptly interrupted her discourse. "You know that birch switch that hangs by itself on the wall in the punishment room? Do you think that would leave blister-welts on someone?" I stared up into the clouds as if in deep thought.She stopped reading. I could feel her stare. Although our relationship had developed a closeness that permitted much play and back and forth foolish interaction, she was aware of a cruel side in me that kept her watchful."I. He picked her up, turned, and walked to the bed. He got on the bed, on his knees, leaned forward and lay her before him. She lay there, nipples hard, pussy wet and hot, her body feeling like it never had before. She looked up at him, seeing him in a whole different light. He was no longer the man with a troubled marriage, a man she was counseling. This was her lover, her first, and she wanted him. ‘I want you. I want you inside me,’ she told him. He stayed on his knees, still using his arms to. I like Mrs. Holmsteader. She challenges me in ways that I never expect.”“She’s an interesting woman,” Coach Titterman said.“She’s smart.”“You probably need to work on getting in the right frame of mind for your performance tonight.”“I do.”Rising from the bleacher, Coach Titterman said, “I guess the appropriate phrase is, ‘Break a leg.’”“Thanks.”Danny watched Coach Titterman disappear into the fog. He lifted the flute to his lips and started playing Bouree by Jethro Tull. He could only play the.