My sex life with him had been rich and fully rewarding for me. My husband knew exactly how to please me, how to make me scream in pleasure. He called ...e his Stradivarius."I can play you like a master. I can make you sing, Carol," he would whisper in my ear as I groaned in joy.I had dated many different men since he left me. Some I bedded. With none did I find the deep and personal joy I found with my husband. None made me cum like he did. I missed that more than I missed him, I fear. And, after. The basement apartment was the domain of a funny little man with a crooked back called simply Pierre.Pierre was more the face of the school because he was the one who daily hauled out the metal cans for the bin men and attempted to keep the small outside garden organized with something less than a green thumb. He was the one to receive the deliveries from the tradesmen and who turned away vendors seeking an audience for peddling their wares.There was a constant steam of posh, upper class young. More

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