I was going to write a book. I hadn't decided yet on what type of book. It could be a children's book, a group of short stories made in to a book or e...ven an epic novel. I had ideas for all three. After a while I settled on the short story idea. I mapped it out with a main character or characters and several conflicts. After I had mapped it I began typing and it just flowed. I just began writing and before I knew it I had written four short stories and started on a fifth. It was kind of hot in. “Yup, still there, doing well. They’re away this weekend, so I’m have a party with some of the old gang. We’re playing a game of truth or dare.”“Well, Johanna, I’ll tell you the truth. You have really filled out into one gorgeous young woman.”“Thank you, Mr. B. Do you like my legs?”“Oh ssss- sorry,” I stammered, blushing furiously. “I didn’t mean to stare.”“That’s OK, Mr. B. I like it when an older man checks me out.”I didn’t feel quite so good about the ‘older man’ reference, but was happy. “Gather your shit and come on.”“Where are we going? What shit? Why are you dressed for Crossroads? What?”“21 days is how many weeks?”“Umh ... three?”“How long did we have to wait?”“Well ... what are we waiting for?” She hollered at Cyn. “We’re going now.”“Let me connect Olaf.”“Who is Olaf?” I said.“Autopilot.”“Olaf?”“Got to name the helmsman something. Why not Olaf?”Cyn tramped down the companionway ladder. She started in about the first step.“Going where? JW ... we’re a hundred miles offshore. Working late became a weekly event and business trips away turned in to dirty sex sessions in hotels. Helen had got her man and she was loving it, better sex a bigger cock than her husband and a man happy to spend some money on her into the bargain. O how I giggled while chatting as she told me of some of the things they got up to. Such as Mark asking Helen to phone his wife to tell her he was working late. “O hello Mrs Wilson, Mark will have to work late tonight there’s an emergency board.