It looked more like a bachelor pad then the safe haven of a single woman. The only concession to the fact that she even HAD estrogen was a scattering ...f embroidered throw pillows she'd picked up in a consignment shop. Okay, so she wasn't Martha Stewart. She dumped her purse, keys and mail on the small bar that delineated the space between the kitchen and living area, hung her coat in the coat closet and proceeded to pour the first of what would be several glasses of wine. She took her first. I was thinking about her sexy, skinny body, her apple sized tits, her nice, little ass and her beautiful face. By the time I got to her house, I was as hard as a rock; I got of the car and stood in the cold until I was soft again. When I got inside Lauren’s house, she told me that we were home alone, as everyone was away for the weekend, a little bit of false hope went through my body. We decided to go outside on the Patio to talk in the falling snow. We talked about how good the local hockey. More

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