After making coffee and downing a couple cups to get him awake he settled down, alone with the Sunday paper.It was after 1:00 PM when someone tried to...open the front door, then rang the doorbell.Susan had finally made it home.He let her in, perturbed that she hadn't even been aware of the chain on the door. Somehow she had lost her keys. She looked like the poster girl for hangovers. Truth of the matter, she was still under the influence. Pete was used to seeing her without makeup, but this was. ”Feeling rather awkward KK answers, “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to cause you trouble.”“Don’t worry about it. Most of the money is mine, anyway!”“I’m confused. I thought he was the big executive?”“He is, and he’s good at it. That’s why I put up with his affairs. See, my grandfather was a wildcatter. Do you know what that is?”“I think so. An independent speculative oil man.”“That’s as good a definition as I’ve heard. Anyway, Papa hit it big and founded the company. The lawyers convinced him to. However, as much as she hated fish, she loved her husband. She'd entertained passing thoughts of illicit summer affairs and hot, passionate sexual encounters while her husband blissfully floated his raft down the Russian River. She'd dreamed of chasing her own form of "spawning red." She sighed. It would never happen. Just about the time she had screwed up the courage to approach that deeply-tanned construction worker or that unbelievably sexy road crewman, fishing season was over, the salmon. " "Then why are we here?" "I don't-" "You like the danger don't you? You're drawn to it," she interrupted, turning in her seat. Her skirt hitched up. Bumfelt caught a glimpse of sheer underwear. He looked away. "You can look, Detective," said Fingerdoo quietly, shifting her legs open a little more. "I don't mind you looking." He looked. Sheer black panties, pulled tight against her pussy. "I like danger," continued Fingerdoo. "I am dangerous, and that's what you're drawn to, but afraid of isn't.