" You open the door and stand there smiling, a questioning look on your face. I show you the bottle of champagne, condensation covering the cold green...glass in blisters of water. You follow me into the kitchen, I put it in the fridge with a wink, you frown, and I tell you it's for later. As I close the fridge door, I give you a hug and crush my lips to yours. My tongue slips between your lips, and mmmm, I taste your strawberry lip gloss. As you respond, I turn you round and tilt you forwards so. If I walked upstairs right then I'd at least have the satisfaction of ruining some one else's day. But I didn't do that either. I hollered up the stairs as loud as I could, "Honey, I'm home. I'll make a pitcher of martinis and be right up."Then I went into the kitchen and did just that. The kitchen is so situated that you can see the stair way and I saw two guys in their twenties rushing down the stairs trying to get dressed while trying to get out. I almost laughed, but didn't. I took the. More

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