She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself. ’ ‘But, no,’ She dimpled. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. He initiated sex with her, lightly fingering her clitoris as an invitation.
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