Synopsis of Chapter 1 - In chapter 1, our protagonists, 33-year-old John and 57-year-old Margie, got chummy when John paid Margie and her husband a visit. In fact John and Margie got so chummy, they spent most of the night fucking in the spare bedroom while Margie's husband was passed out in the next room.
We continue our story...
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The early afternoon sun streaming through the open curtains forced me awake. I peered at the clock radio on the nightstand. 1:30. I had slipped out of Margie's condo and around the corner into mine just about sunrise and had collapsed on my bed. I'd been sleeping for almost 8 hours, but felt I could sleep for 8 more. After Margie and I made love the first time, we had slept for an hour or so. Then I had been able to get it up twice more before I left. Damn, I was exhausted. I got up, stumbled to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. As I looked into the mirror I discovered Margie had left claw marks on my back and shoulders and a bite mark on my chest that was turning the color of fresh liver. Lucky for me I wasn't due to see Heather, my steady girl friend, until next week.
After I finished brushing my teeth I headed for the kitchen and brewed up a pot of coffee. As I sat at the counter sipping my coffee and clearing the cobwebs from my brain, I sensed that something was out of place in the kitchen. I scanned the room and spotted a small bud vase with a single rose in it, and an oversize envelope leaning against the vase, sitting next to the sink. I retrieved the envelope and opened it. Inside was one of those greetings cards with mushy verse inscribed on the inside. I flipped it open, skipped the maudlin sentiment and read the handwritten note at the bottom:
Last night was great. Hope you think so too. Let's do it again real soon. Call me if you read this before 4:30.
Margie
Ain't this a pip, I thought. She had let herself in with the pass key and left the card and the flower while I was asleep.
I called Margie at the property manager's office. She picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"
"Hi there, sweet thing. Whatcha doing?" I asked.
"Sitting here bored to tears. Why aren't you at work?"
I explained that I was a consultant and that aside from an occasional overnight trip to visit a client, I worked at home. "Just got up. I'm having some coffee. Oh, by the way, thanks for the card and the flower."
"My pleasure. So, do you think last night was great?"