I walk faster. ‘I’m not mad.’ She follows me as I wheel the cart back toward the supply room. There are more books to be reshelved, standing in ...iles on the oak table. There are even more stacks of books waiting for rebinding, or page repairs. ‘I said I was sorry.’ She had said she was sorry. A dozen times. Two dozen. It didn’t change anything. ‘I’m not mad.’ I fuss with the cart, maneuvering it into the corner, a momentary bout of OCD forcing me to perfectly align the wheels with the chipped. Her level of sexual hunger was at a peak of great magnitude now and she kept me fully drained to a degree that I had not experienced since my days in college keeping the cheerleaders happy as a priority mission of my obtaining higher education.My FBI partner Gloria was coming home so tired lately from her paper work at the office that she would beg off on doing it and I would be faced with satisfying her eighteen year old younger sister. Her teenaged sister Eve was determined to gain all the. More

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