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But what could I do? It was toture. Pure bloody torture. The blank uncertainty was eating away at me all day. I wished I could go to sleep and wake ...p when Celine was back at work. How could she do it? Maybe she was calling my bluff. What if I called the police? She was playing a dangerous game. I somehow suffered the agony of waiting for the next day and came in to work late. To my delight Celine was there. I saw her sexy ass moving from table to table placing menus and. Her body seemed fuller than it had been. Her breasts had been a source of annoyance to her before. She'd always complained they were only "B's" and I'd countered with a pronouncement they were "B-pluses." Now they were larger. I was willing to bet my girl-watchers of America membership card that she now wore a "C" cup bra. I couldn't think of a polite way to ask though. There are some questions one does not ask one's ex-wife."Well," she said, looking at her wristwatch, "I have to go or the boss. More

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