Sounds of giggling and the sounds of spraying water drift through his neighbor’s woods. That doesn't sound like Jean. Gregor inhales deeply of the a...dictive stuff. Right, Jean sold the place to some young folks. Not often new folks came this far off the beaten path. Not often they stayed. The man stabs his glowing nicotine vessel into the ugly glass ashtray that had yellowed over time. Well, the day is dry for once. Best not waste it.The last real storm had blown down a Sitka Spruce tree over. I spent many an evening in the shower imagining that my soft hands that played and probed between my slick swollen lips were his and that the orgasms that the steady flow of the water created would be results of his tongue sucking profusely on my clit. I doubted that he would ever notice me, I was so used to being in the shadow of my girlfriends that everyone seemed to fancy and he wouldn’t even talk to me most days. The dreams that impaired my sleep at night didn’t help either. They felt so. More

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