He had his advertising material spread out on the coffee table. The sales pitch was over, though, and they were sitting back and relaxing over a cup o... coffee. Mary was wearing a white blouse and a short, white skirt. Her skirt had hiked up until I could see the dark band at the top of her stockings. Obviously, they had not heard me come in. I could see him glancing at her lovely legs, and somehow I knew he would try to make out with my wife. All I had to do was make a sound and it would all be. “And why have you remained hidden for so long?”I didn’t think Delia could look any more frustrated than she already was, but she managed to somehow. Boy, I think I was actually beginning to enjoy the encounter.“Because Cassandra’s a ketch rigged yacht, not a sailboat.” I replied, ignoring the second part of her question. “Some folks try to call her a schooner. But she’s my craft, and I if say that she’s a bleeding yacht, then she’s a bloody yacht!“I’m pedantic about it, because I want to be,. More

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