Corky stood, and, readjusting his trousers, paced the room anxiously. He could imagine the dreadful scene-his eyes damp and stinging, her delicate fea...ures set in a stern expression as she struck him again and again, forcing him to beg her forgiveness for his disloyalty. Oh, the shame of it!And then, under her mother's perverse tutelage, she might remove her own garments and gratify herself upon his body. Would the hair of her motte be thick like her mother's, or sparse like that of her sister?. "How's you and that pretty little wife of yours?" Henry was one of those big guys who didn't have any concept of what my mother used to call an indoor voice. Whether he was dining a client or talking on the phone, he was always loud and booming. I sometimes amused myself with inveinting soliloquies he might use in that booming voice of his while making love to his wife."That's what I'm calling about, Hank," I said. "I think she might be stepping out on me." I had no problem telling him this,. More

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