Now that I think about it, Inge might be very useful.
She buttoned her blouse before pulling on the skirt.
She did that on purpose.
And succeeded in making my hormones rage.
I wonder how long that will last.
[FOUR]
4730 Avenida Libertador
Buenos Aires, Argentina
2015 1 October 1943
Don Cletus Frade ran his fingers across the hair of Doña Dorotea Mallín de Frade, marveling at its color and softness.
“And you said there wasn’t time,” he announced.
“What?” she asked somewhat sleepily, raising her head from his chest to look up at him.
“Write this down,” he said. “You are fortunate to have a husband who can always find time for a ‘Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma’am!’ ”
“My God!” she said.
“Yes, my child?” he asked sonorously.
She bit his nipple.
“Jesus Christ!”
“Get up and get dressed. Your guests are downstairs.”
“Let ’em wait,” he said.
Dorotea rolled away from him, put her feet against his hips, and pushed him out of the bed. He barely managed to avoid being dumped on the floor, but he succeeded in landing on his feet. He looked down at her.
“Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen—”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“—in the last few hours.”
She grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at him. He caught it and threw it back at her like a basketball.
Then he raised his arms and crawled across the bed on his knees.
“I never realized before how erotic a pillow fight can be,” he said. “How about another quickie?”
She rolled out the other side of the bed.
“Get dressed, Cletus! I’m serious.”
“How can you be serious? You’re naked.”
“Get dressed!”