His skin was a beautiful shade of mocha, a mixture of his parents colors. Anna had seen them at nine o'clock mass many a Sunday. The father was a swar...hy looking Mexican while the mother was a very dark black woman.She was brought out of her revelry when the young man lept to his feet slapping at his legs while running away from the flower garden. He was loudly yelling. "Ouch ... damn ... owe..." and a few obscenities. The young nun could see that a swarm of bees was chasing him stinging him. Setting the glass down he gently dislodged the book from her hand – a familiar title, laced liberally with explicit sensual passages – and laid it on the coffee table. Surprised that hadn’t awakened her, he settled on one knee in front of the couch, running one hand lightly along her neck hoping the reading had stoked erotic dreams – she stirred slightly, drawing a deeper breath as he leaned it to kiss her lips. That brought an even deeper breath, both eyes opened, and she sighed gently as her. More

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