I smile at him and he smiles back. "Sit down," I say. Gary walks over to the couch and sits down. I follow, sitting on his lap. I begin to run my hand... through his hair, caressing it. "I loved that story you wrote for me, Gary. It made me so wet. I left a puddle where I stood." I say. Gary doesn't respond, so I carry on. "I'm a difficult girl to please. I'm usually the crazy rough sex type but there was something about what you wrote. I was intrigued. This is your reward for making. Much to the dismay of his father, an iron miner who'd never finished grade school, Sam had concluded that he loved lawyer jokes far more than lawyers, and that he didn't want to become one.The DEA hadn't really turned out to be his calling, either, and it had contributed to ending his four-year marriage. Now, however, Sam was settled and satisfied as a lawman in this docile, semi-rural section of coastal Carolina. He had come originally from Northern Michigan, a beautiful land full of Swedes. More

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