It didn't matter to me whether her embellishments were true or not at the time; her guilleless confessions always followed after her stories took us t... the edge of a precarious cliff and pushed us over, sweaty and writhing into the beckoning abyss."Are you ever jealous, even once in a while, when I tell you how tempted I am to have sex with another man?" she had asked, out of the blue. "I know you like to hear my stories, but do you ever worry? That I might fall for one of them? Or that there. " The woman turned away. "You may not call me Irene," she called back as she walked into another room.Pippa stared mesmerized. Her eyes watched the older woman's swaying hips excitedly. She shook her head, closed her apparently-open mouth and followed her, her cheeks growing red.Irene was sitting at a vanity, lifting the top of a small box delicately. She reached in, picking up a pair of opera-length white latex gloves, which she then rolled slowly up her arms, making eye contact in the mirror. More

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