After a few seconds of staring into each other's eyes in an almost challenging, yet also tender way. Emilie finally closed her eyes and moved the smal... bit to connect their mouths, after a few minutes of frenzied kissing Isabella found herself up on the counter, Emilie pulling the tattered shirt up to allow her hand to slid up Isabella's shirt, her other steadily stroking Isabella's inner thigh. Responding Isabella pulled Emelie's head to her breast while biting her own finger, her legs twining. Well, she was on edge about something all the time. Probably she was trying to work out whether I knew the truth about her and Phil. Come on, I'd known these two all my life; I could almost read their bleeding minds.We sort-of hung around together for a few more days and then I couldn't stand it anymore. Maybe I should have come straight out and told them I knew, but I chickened out.Look, this might sound weird but I needed those little encouraging letters from Polly every week or so. Anyway, I. It lasted ten days, and when I returned Betsy greeted me warmly and we had great sex that night. However in the ensuing weeks she often arrived home after I did from various “art” classes or museum lectures, and was as often as not too “tired” for sex. Her explanation was that maybe she was pregnant. After about two months of this I insisted that she go see her OBGYN. She said that she had a hard time getting an appointment, but finally after three weeks got one. The night after her doctor’s. A man came up to the woman and engaged her in conversation. The type of conversation, which went on and on, and which could impossibly be summarized in more than, let’s say, two meaningful sentences. Party chatter, small talk, producing hot air, babbling along, BSing, call it what you will. The talk of the upper glass, complaining about things normal people could not even afford or imagine.»Now, how do you keep yourself occupied during the weekdays, if I may ask?« the man chatting up the woman.