You open your eyesand stare up at the ceiling. It's not your ceiling, at least there's that. Maybe your wife will be mad that you took off to God know... where, but at least she won't catch you with some other woman in her bed.You glance around the bed but find yourself alone. Definitely a woman's bed, though. The coconut smell seems to be coming from the expensive white sheets and oversized comforter.You sit up and swing your feet to the hardwood floor. The entire wall of the bedroom in front of. It’s generally innocent stuff, but sometimes they go too damn far. The worst was a prank call about my mother being killed in a car wreck which forced me to leave merger talks to fly home. My mother is my last surviving blood family. We buried my father and brother ten years prior after a semi truck ran a red light.After discovering my mother wasn’t dead, I laid holy hell upon the whole damn lot of them. One year later I still refused to allow them in my home or talk to them. April wasn’t. She caught him staring enviously at Dorie Lou and sensed that he wasmore curious than shocked or upset. She was debating how to address theissue but Simon anticipated her."Is it nice?" he asked, betraying the hope in his voice."What darling?" replied Mrs Benson. Realising the boy's unspoken hopesbut making doubly sure."Your Milk," replied Simon, "What does it taste like?" "Why, would you like to taste some?"Simon hesitated. Ever since watching the lambs and the calves, he hadsecretly wondered. My eyes then turn to you. Your body is covered in what looks like a milky, froth. The only part of you not covered in bubbles is your head and face and your right arm and hand which is holding a half-empty glass of red wine.You look cheekily at me and seductively ask, ”care to join me?"I hurriedly start to undress. First, pulling my socks off.You tell me to slow down. You tell me that you want me to put on a show for you as you lay there in your warm bath, enjoying your wine.I walk over to the.
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