“The patron saints of prostitutes and gamblers,” I replied, keeping a straight face.“Carl! That’s not funny!” scolded Harriet.“No, it’s ...ot! Now, behave!” ordered Marilyn.I shrugged and smiled. I turned to Mark, who was sitting on the couch next to me. He was grinning back at me. “So, who was the patron saint of trailer salesman?” I asked.He laughed while Marilyn stewed. “That would be Saint Big Bob!”I laughed, too. “Sorry, that name is already taken.” Charlie’s middle name was Robert.Marilyn. You want to feel him in you, but he tells you to wait.You feel how he undoes your skirt, and you start to moan again. You want him to lick your wetness; you want him to drink your sweet love juices, you want him to suck on the key to your desire, you feel his tongue burn deep inside of yourself. You feel how he gently removes your white cotton panties, how your shoes are being undone, and feel the sweet sensations of his kisses on your feet. He touches them as if they were the most precious and. More

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