" Of course there was," went on Lena soporifically, relentlessly. "You remember, dear Sharon. There were some booklets, weren't there? Some booklets o... the table..." Booklets," Sharon repeated, and her marijuana and aphrodisia drugged mind repeated the word over and over again. She couldn't talk about those filthy, lewd things... she couldn't... and yet Lena was her friend and she felt so wonderful without her clothes, safe and warm and nice... and she was so naughtily excited, her pussy. He didn’t seem quite as arrestingly good-looking in the early morning light of regret. But still. Enough. More than enough. She extended her hand to touch him and then pulled it back, appalled at herself. Her dress was on the floor next to the door. Silver, sequinned and far too short for a Sunday morning. She purposefully didn’t deliberate on the day but then she caught sight of the Bible on the bedside table and the memories rushed in condemningly.Sunday morning service. It came back to her. More

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