Dinner passed, still with not a word between them well not on the subject of sex, “this poxy virus”, as Sam was wont to express himself seemed to ...ave caught the world on the hop and that was the topic at table. It was after breakfast next day that he left her a note on the table, it was in his best handwriting and on a nice stiff piece of card, he had started early in the garden digging and readying the patch for his runner beans. She took it with her to read his words in the toilet in. Sitting down, Rixie Godwight, our goddess as stated by the mug that now held her coffee lifted the ceramic creation to her lips, pushing the tip of it slightly against the battlefield of her rosy lips, the refreshing liquid rushing down her neck. Pushed back by forces a new, she leaned against the chair she sat upon, the left arm holding the mug’s tail and the right one running down her exposed right thigh, threading milky pure plains as her mind trailed off to the contents of an image seated. More

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