I swallowed hard, not yet facing her, I wondered if my voice would crack like some pubescent boy if I dare attempt to answer her in my current conditi...n. Was she even being serious with me? Unsure of myself, I gave her a brief but definite nod.She leaned even closer and in a calm, seductive voice she whispered in my ear, “pull down your pants a bit Adam, so I have better access...” Mercy me, had I fallen asleep without even realizing it? Or was I awake and letting my erotic fantasies run away. She hated fishing season. Hell, it had gotten to the point that she hated fish all together. Sex between them was almost non-existent from June to August, and weekends were horrible. He brought his fishing gear to work with him and spent hours each evening standing hip deep in Ship Creek casting over and over. Early morning weekend sex--a mainstay during the long, dark winters--was a thing of the past. Saturdays meant up before what passed for dawn in Alaska, and out the door for hour after. More

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