Not now…“Baby…” She leans forward, crawling toward you across the bed. “Baby, I’m so sor—”“Don’t.” You put up your hand, unable ...o look at her. “Just…just DON’T, okay?”This is working.You pull a small duffel bag from beneath the bed and go to your closet, grabbing at whatever. Forethought escapes you; whatever you forget can be replaced.“Baby?” she asks.Don’t engage her. That’s the last goddamned thing you need right now. You need to be away from her, from this place, from that bed (your own. I moaned louder as I kept going. My heart was racing as I rubbed my clit hard. I couldn't get him out of my head. I fingered myself harder and harder until I finally arched my back and threw my head back with a fierce orgasm. I sat up and looked at my book bag. His number was in there. I knew for a fact that he texted because he would do nothing but in our class. I thought about it for a moment as my heart rate returned to normal. "Hi, Mister Laz? It's Megan," I texted him. After a moment. I hurried in and took a shower then washed the clothes I had worn so everything should be ok. I just hope he doesn't begin dropping in for lunch regularly and find me gone again."Wendy said, "Well, what are you going to do after you retire? I mean, well, how will you manage to meet Warren for lunch (giggle, giggle) if you live so far away." Oh, I don't think that should be too big a problem. After all, I have to buy things for the house pretty regularly don't I? And I'm sure Jim will not. I'd like to meet the schoolteacher. What's her name?" Penelope Breckenridge. Her brother was killed out here a couple of years ago during a hold-up. One of the sheriff's deputies did it. That was before my time. People wonder why she came back to where it must be awful painful for her. I know where her brother's grave is too. The sheriff pays someone to have the marker varnished and to keep the grave clear. He says the money comes in the mail for the upkeep of the grave. Foolishness, I say..