"Well for a start that." Anwyn pointed at the pile of Angela's dirtyclothes in the linen basket. "Angela rarely tidies up after herself andgoes throug... clothes like a fashion model!" I'll put a wash on tonight and see you later," the fake Anwyn replied."Have a nice night with Bernard." The real Anwyn went to go and pick upher handbag from the bed and stopped mid flight. She was Anthony nowand didn't have a handbag. She went to her suit trousers and retrievedAnthony's wallet before going to give. However she found half a fat joint in one of the ashtrays, brought in from the perfunctory clean up effort at the end of the party. ‘COOL!’ She thought to herself, I haven’t had a chance to get decently stoned in nearly fifteen years. She had smoke a lot of pot in her youth, and on a few rare occasions since. Things changed with work and marriage and kids. She didn’t resent the moving on into the mature roles that responsibilities required of her. But she did miss the freedom of times gone. You like to watch women do shit like that, don’t you? Never done that before. Now tell me true Mel. How many of your dates have you done that to?”Mel looked into her eyes, shining in the night, and assured her that she was his first. She shook her head, said something like “fucker.” That’s when Tracy rose up on her knees and ground down into his crotch with her hips and said, “OK, I believe that. Now how about something for you. Let’s go cowboy.”Mel was ready, and Tracy slowly lowered herself. “I would’ve killed to have as much free time as you kids do.”“But now look at you, you own your company, have a car collection, and can do whatever you want,” she said.“I still spend most of my time working,” I said.“Are you working today?” she asked.“No,” I replied. “I was doing something else.”“What?” she asked as she took another sip from the bottle.“Surfing the internet,” I replied.“Everyone does that,” she said.“True,” I said as I sat down next to her. “I love to go on there and find out.
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