I look up and see a picture of Mrs. Beckwith. She is sitting in a black BMW wearing cut off jeans showing long slender legs and a white top that is ...nbuttoned to her waist, with her breasts completely exposed. I instinctively look up at the door and listen, knowing I should not be looking at this picture. I neither see, nor hear any sign of Mrs. Beckwith, so I pick up the picture and take a closer look. My God, she has the most incredible breasts, the most perfect nipples I’ve ever. I saw subtle differences in the techniques Rhonda was using with the cameras. April, of course, was her principal camera person. She'd hired Joyce for editing, and Jason on a second camera. That was part of the difference. She'd used three and sometimes four cameras when we did the shows for a live audience this summer. But now they were focused on just capturing the monologues and did a lot more cutting and repeating than in the summer. The results were tighter and even sharper. Nicki had been. She turned her face up to look at me, “Davey, I…”I took that opportunity to kiss her full on the lips, long and deep. To my surprise, she melted into my kiss and parted her lips just enough to let her tongue slip out and slide gently into my mouth. As the kiss went on, her tongue grew more daring and adventurous without too much more encouragement. God she tasted good. She moved up and adjusted herself so she was sitting on my lap, and letting a lot of passion out through this one kiss. I let. Roger furrowed his brow and got a pained expression on his face. After a moment of thought, Roger responded, “No, I haven’t actually talked to anybody about Stacy since the funeral. Since Stacy and the children died, I haven’t had a reason to talk to her parents. And since I moved down here, I haven’t kept in touch with her friends or colleagues either. I’m a pretty introverted person, so most of our friends in Virginia were Stacy’s. Her roommate from college, people from work, other parents. I.