When he turned toward her she was aghast. Warren Thatcher had hardly changed at ALL. At first she couldn’t believe that Corey had actually invited h...m. How did he even know how to get hold of him? When she fully accepted that who she was looking at was really her high school and college sweetheart her mind began to reel. Though having been deeply in love with this man she had refused to have intercourse with him. Asking herself what would the man who I’d planned to marry but refused to fuck. Covered both. He made sure she was calm by cuddling her after she buttoned her blouse. Nothing out of place now. Demure self, mind controlled self back in charge of two bodies. Her pink cardigan holding the memory now of her sexual being for Bernard. Long after any genital explicitness faded from memory, its light pinkness would embrace and shape memory, a pink cardigan dominating visually in recalling a stunningly explosive female orgasm by Beth. Strange what we hold, strange what memory. More

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