" You don't suppose he'd tell you about snogging some local lass, do you?"his father told her with a laugh."I think I'll have a word with Wendy Boyd, ...ee if she's seen anythingthat would make her think that they're closer than ordinary friends." Andwith that she closed their conversation, much to her husband's relief.Later that day she bumped into Mrs Boyd in the supermarket, inevitablythe subject of Bill and Darren's friendship cropped up."Do you know Eileen, I was just coming to the opinion. You are a special woman and have done more for me than I ever could have asked.Thank you from the bottom of my heart.—AlanMarissa set the card down and unwrapped the present. In a simple wooden picture frame, she found a picture of her and Alan from the night before. They were standing in front of the Bellagio. They both had goofy grins on their faces. His arms were around her, holding her close."You bastard." Her voice was barely audible.She turned and looked back over her shoulder. Through. I knew then my marriage was as dead as my Great Aunt Grace who died in 1953. I cried as I gathered up my nightgown and robe and went to bed on the couch.In the morning, I was up long before the k**s, and had breakfast on when Joe came down. He asked me why I didn't come home Sunday morning like I said I would?I looked at him and just told him flatly, "I wanted to Fuck some more."He stared at me for a minute, me not knowing what was running through his mind behind those tortured eyes. Then he. Meanwhile I think, that this decision was wrong, in those days.Let me tell you a little bit, “how” it was over there, so you see, “why” it was so hot for me, and why I yearn to experience this once again …When I arrived at L.A. airport, he picked me up, and he brought me in his house in Santa Monica. He fucked me real hard for a few days, but then he told me to dress-up real,real slutty, and went with me in a black club in L.A.Here he presented me as his “white-trash-slut,” to all the guy in.