She remembered “the talk.” That was precum, natural lubricant. He was going to do it to her. “Are we going to fuck, Ben?” she asked in a whis...er. Ben froze. That was exactly what he wanted, but he realized he could never do anything she didn’t want to do. His love for her was real and profound. “I want to,” he said to her. “Do you? Do you want me to fuck you, Trudy?” “I don’t know,” she said. “Will it fit in me?” “We could try,” he said. She smiled. “You’ll stop if I say so?” she asked. “Of. She now preferred salads rather than pork ribs. She was forty-four. She was no longer a chick. Her agency seldom called. She did not mind serving tables. She liked the people she served in her little neighborhood restaurant. Celia had waited on tables there since high school. She would now never consider leaving the place. For years Celia had told herself and any one that would listen that she would leave the job in a second if she could. For fifteen years she could have but she didn’t. She. More

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