“You know Mr Anderson had a stroke recently?”“Everyone in the neighbourhood knows that.”“So he won’t be using his shed, will he?”It felt very wrong taking advantage of Mr Anderson’s misfortune, but there was no way I could resist. The shed was cramped, filled with tools and bags of fertilizer and foldable canvas chairs. It smelled of residual compost and mildew. We squeezed inside. It was impossible for us to move without brushing up against each other.Bianca wriggled out of her jacket. Underneath she was wearing a black top with thin shoulder straps that showed off plenty of cleavage. She pulled that down quickly, before reaching back and unhooking a black bra that looked like it had its work cut out supporting the mass of flesh that was soon exposed to me in all its glory, along with perfectly circular pink patches topped off with nipples that I rather fancifully felt resembled on-off buttons. I began to salivate.“What are you waiting for?” Bianca said. “Hurry up before I change my. No, I decided I didn’t want that, not at the moment. Certainly, not the way we had talked about last August, not with Janelle, I was sure of that. And Lori? Well, maybe we could ... no, I decided I shouldn’t, not at the moment. Besides, maybe there was something in what Lori felt about Cathy and me getting back together. I had discounted that, not wanting to get my hopes up over something that probably wouldn’t happen. But of the three possibilities, being back with Cathy was what I really wanted.“No sense in dwelling on things like that,” I said to myself. “If it happens, well it does. But get on with your life.”I drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Lori and I in the car, her boat, on a beach, against a tree. Thoughts I hadn’t had for some time.I woke late the next day, still thinking about Lori; what we did – and what we almost did. Had our timing been slightly different, I would be waking up as a seventeen-year-old non-virgin. Would that have been such a bad thing? Not really, I had.
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