And horny.Crap. This is stupid. I stood up. Why not? Do it! I stripped off my t-shirt, shorts and sandals. Slipped off my bra and panties. It's safe, ... was thinking. They won't be here for hours.I stepped out on the veranda. No one could see me, though for a second I thought maybe it wouldn't be bad if they could. Barest hint of a breeze on my skin. A tingle, too. Still hot. Crap. I promised Coach I'd do floor work every day during break. You think wrestlers only need arms and shoulders? Look. Even so, on the few times Braxton-Clark came into Hounslow barracks he always found ways to irritate me. He would see me, seated in a corner, and call out."Little Jack Horner, still in a corner, with no sweetheart!"His laugh was full of pleasure at my distress.It was on All Souls Day when I finally received a letter from Amy. The Curzon Players had stayed in Oxford for a month, longer than first anticipated--It seems that even professors of theology were eager to view Madame Dyer's abundant. More

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