" Jesus fuck." turning trying to find the nearest stairwell..." This will have to do." gripping the railing as I slowly step down onto the first metal...step, six stories up you'd think they'd make better stairs. Gripping for dear life I almost fall a couple times, not to mention the gusts of wind flashing my bright red panties under my dress for all below to see. Trying to hold my skirt and the rail along with my coffee is a challenge. almost falling off the last step I stumble to my car,. ”Both girls looked uncomfortable, glances were exchanged, but finally, they both nodded in agreement.“The answer to Zara’a question is we aren’t ready to make love right now but almost certainly will this evening.”“How often do you… you know… do it?" Asked Zara, blushing furiously but not wanting to miss an opportunity.“Ask the question properly, say the words or no answers,” I replied.Zara blushed even more, “How often do you make love?” She whispered.“It depends,” replied Sarah, “Average four. When I asked dad about it, he told me, ’mom’s back went out, and I had to fix it.’ I believed him until I was fourteen. Mom’s back used to go out a lot back then. Still does, but not quite as often as before.”“It must have been weird listening to them back then.”“Not so much. I got used to it, and if it started to get to me, I would just ... oh shit, never mind.”I was wearing a t-shirt and men’s boxers when I sat on the edge of Bobby’s bed and teased him, “And just what did little Bobby do to. No wonder there’s no fucking cars. Must’ve accidentally veered into an onramp when I missed that truck.” I pulled onto the shoulder, and took out my phone. No signal, of course. This was starting to feel like a Stephen King novel. I sighed, and rummaged through my glovebox, trying to find the GPS. “You lost, Sugar?” a sultry female voice asked from my window. I jolted upright, my heart blasting against my breastbone. She was leaning against my driver’s side door, a pair of hazel eyes staring.