I picked up my cordless phone and called. ‘Hello, this is Lorraine Theriault.’ I paused, listening for the rest of the automated attendant messag.... ‘Hello? Is someone there?’ the woman’s voice asked. ‘Um, yes. This is Tom Connors. I’m calling for Dr. Theriault, please.’ ‘This is Lorraine Theriault, Mr. Connors.’ This time I heard what sounded like a French accent, slight but distinctive. ‘Oh, I’m sorry for the hesitation. I was expecting to get a receptionist or an answering machine. Anyway, I. She lay helpless, caught up in the throes of passion, hating it,loving it, unable even to make a token gesture or croak a hoarse "No!" ashe pushed it in her, pulled it out, pushed it back in again, churning herinsides into a passionate pudding of pink-frothed lust. God damn him! She knew who it was--knew just as clearly as if she couldsee his face. It was the most vivid dream she could remember in years. Damn! She hadn't felt this turned-on since--since something she didn'tlike to think about.. More

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