As she either did not hear me or was unaware that I had come home, I went searching through the house to see where she was and who she was talking to,...ending up at the guest bedroom where I found her sitting on the end of the bed, butt naked talking on the phone. Oblivious to me standing there, she was rubbing herself gently, aroused to the point of that warm fuzzy phase of stimulation where the brain shuts out other noises as its arousal levels pass various heights of sexual yearning.Being. It just wasn't a subject I felt I could broach, despite Anya's deep, sometimes kinky sexuality, and I pretty much got used to the idea of this being nothing but a private, very intense fantasy. Then ... It happened...One Sunday afternoon, I was over at Anya's. She was busy at her computer with some project for work and I took the opportunity to pop down and use the gym in the basement of her apartment complex. Afterwards, I came back up to shower and then, when I was done, I located a pair of. "Once we get going that's fine, but I think you should sort of slump down in the passenger's seat until we get out of this neighborhood -- my parents have friends all around here, and we don't want a nosy neighbor to blow the whistle, do we?" No, Ann. I much prefer the way you blow the whistle... " I smiled.She giggled and patted the seat next to her. I got in, and we put the convertible top up. I hunched down as she had suggested, amazed again at how truly dedicated she had become to keeping. John Garson, driven businessman, raconteur, incipient alcoholic, is no more. He died when I accepted my death on that rooftop. I go by Jay Garson now. I'm quieter. I still have my sense of humor, but I don't need to be the center of events. One glass of wine is enough for dinner, no nightcaps need apply. I'm content to enjoy life as it comes. I date occasionally, but I'm not looking for one night stands anymore. When I meet a woman, she has to meet a much different set of standards.I glossed.