I looked out through my window and said to myself, screw it! If everyone else can take time away, so can I! I locked up the office and headed for home...As I was pulling up to my house, I was a bit shocked to see the driveway filled with cars; maybe Becky was having some friends over or something.I opened the door and was starting to say, “Surprise, Becky, I’m home” when the smell hit me; Reefer, Pot, Mary Jane, call it what you will but nothing smells like burning cannabis does. I stumbled a bit. I had; multiple times. She lay on her back, panting, staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing. I felt as though I had run a marathon. My tongue was numb from exertion. I had tossed the Manhandler to one side, then cuddled with my beloved. We fell asleep that way.I awoke lying on my stomach, to the sensation of someone straddling my thighs. The essence of Scoundrel, Joan Collins’ signature scent, wafted through the air. A pillow beneath me elevated my hips and bottom. I tried to turn around, but. More

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