” “So this has hit you just as hard then?” “Yeah. Not as much as you but it definitely left me broken.” “I'm sorry.” “Don't say tha...t,” I said to her. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one indebted to you, for what I did.” “I guess that's somewhat true. But I've forgiven you Sam. And that's what I'm here for. I have a proposal... since we're two broken sorry fucks... why don't we finish what we started? We do it right though. I want this, believe it or not.” “You what?”. That night, there wasn't much on the TV we felt like watching. Cards were available, but we started talking, swapping stories. Soon we were sharing about our sexual history. We just stumbled on the subject from some other topic, I forget what, but mom told me about losing her virginity the first year out of High School. I had lost mine a year before. She was in a car, I was down in a gal's basement. I shared some of mom's wine, but I was more intoxicated by the intimacy of our openness. I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy inWILLIAM SHAKESPEARE"A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM"The unassuming village of Brea was a quaint little village that laywithin the Shire of. " Yeah, probably because of my silver hair." I gave her my card and told her to call me on my cell phone if she needed anything."I'll be in touch," she said with a wink. "Remember, you will be my first massage client." That's a deal," I replied. I shook her hand and turned off to my office, while she continued to the bus stop.A couple of weeks passed before I heard from Margo. She called on a Friday morning just before noon. "Hi. This is Margo. Remember me, the masseuse you helped find an.