"Who cares?" She asks, without any touch of humor. "You don't get a turn anyway." She says, snottily. "Well, except that time before the game, but who...needs that?" She says, asking about the specifics for the game. I tell her and we hang up. I guess the football team will be winning from now on.Sherrie spends every night this week over at Ken's, while Susan and I continue to explore the increasing level of intimacy that surrounds everything we do. We can't seem to get enough of each other,. The dinner was fantastic, as always, and we ate well and had a good time. Everyone headed to the living room as Kimberly, and I cleaned the dishes since neither of us cooked. Kimberly seemed to be in my way quite a bit, always bumping into me or standing ridiculously close. It was a constant annoyance as we worked our way through the mountain of dishes. Kimberly also seemed to have the dropsies as the silverware was dropped repeatedly. She made sure that I was looking her way as she bent. More

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