”“I love you too.”“Thank you for this afternoon.”“I enjoyed it too.”“It's now your turn, would you like to fuck me.”“That's not so...ething we do very much anymore. Fucking isn't exactly one of my strengths.”“That's true, but after my afternoon with Steve I thought you might like to do it too.”“I'm afraid that my performance would suffer in comparison.”“Sweetheart, I love you. When you fuck me it will always be special.”“Maybe in your mind, but I'll always feel like Mr. Last Place.” I smiled at. I may have been a wild, cheating whore, but I always knew that nothing must ever come between my husband and me. And then, of course, there was Jean. Not only had I made love to Jean as Molly, but Jean and I had been having an incestuous relationship since we were teenagers. In fact, it was Jean I had been going to see when I had been killed by the truck. As I explained all this to him, I had been sitting next to him on the edge of the bed in the cheap motel, but I had been looking down at my. More

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