”“Desiree, huh? That fits. Pretty name,” he said.“Yours?” Desiree said, smiling, bending over with her elbows on the lab table, showing said...cleavage.“Shawn,” Shawn caught himself looking at her breasts.She was different. He was different, too, in their own ways.She slowly noticed his “soldier” saluting to her. She didn’t say anything, but she did lick her freshly glossed lips. Shawn was, at that time, wearing jeans, so it was not very hard to notice.“So, Shawn?”“Yeah?” Shawn said.Desiree bit. Alastair was sitting on a rustic bench guarding a table of goodies from insect invasion. Through the gauze covering, I could see a couple of cakes and a big bowl of strawberries. He quickly rose and greeted us, shaking us by the hand and giving the girls a quick peck on the cheek.There were four folding aluminium garden chairs around the table; the colourful striped fabric supported by strong lacing. Alastair waved us to sit down; the chairs were surprisingly comfortable, if a little low for us. More

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