Here, she was at home. It wasn't that she cared about anyone else seeing her — maybe she had, in that other life, but here and now, it was just abou... the pleasure of the music, letting go and becoming one with the beat.Actually, there was one person she cared for, he knew, and he looked to see her watching him, and smiling at him, pure pleasure that she was there with him.All of a sudden it hit him with a bang: he was in love with this girl. Completely and utterly gone. He realised that he'd. "There's a set in the closet, we can make it quickly," he said to Mrs. Peterson.It was definitely partially the wine talking, but Mrs. Peterson was also horny as fuck. "Or, I could just...stay with you?"Mr. Jones took a look at Mrs. Peterson. She wasn't built like most of the women he dated -- he usually went for a little bit trashier types, women he'd date a few times and move on. Deb was a full figured, independent, professional woman. He didn't know if it was a good idea to get involved with. More

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