“My god, Brian. That was...” She couldn’t find the words, and instead let out a long, satisfied moan. “You really came unglued.” “Thank yo....” She closed her eyes and moaned again. “Best. Christmas. Ever.” He chuckled, the fingers of the hand behind her back creeping around to caress the side of her breast. “Not even Christmas yet,” he hinted. Gina shivered as her body reacted to his words and his touch. She glanced down to where his hardness tented the red velvet pants, and her hand replaced. What else could one do ina hopeless present but hold out hope for tomorrow? Marcia suspected thatcome morning things wouldn't look any clear. They'd only have lostanother day. And Phoebe, like a space capsule floating off into emptyspace, would be that much further away.* * *Marcia, the depressive realist, was never so sorry in her life to beproved right. As she expected, nothing became clearer in the morning.Nor in the several mornings that followed. In this way, the better partof a. More

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