. . masterbate?’ She asked in a low, sultry voice. ‘I don’t know, experiences I guess.’ ‘Not fantasies?’ She asked. ‘No, not often. Usua...ly I think about something that happened in the past.’ ‘How do you do it? I mean, do you do it in the shower?’ Her voice had lowered a bit like she didn’t want to be overheard. ‘Sometimes,’ I said. ‘Sometimes I do it in the living room, anywhere will do.’ ‘Oh,’ she said breathing harder. ‘Do you ever think of people you haven’t been with?’ ‘Occasionally,’ I. " Giving one last glance over to Abby, I put one foot in front of the other and headed into the store. A faint, wispy smell of old cardboard and wood entered my nostrils. I could see rows and rows of shelves, all containing foreign looking bottles. I turned one over, the thick green glass exciting me. My shaky hands helped me to realize that this was a type of wine. Hell, I didn't even know what I was looking for. Pacing down the aisle, a man behind the counter greeted me. "Hello, Ma'am, can I. More

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