Chapter 7:

Don’t Leave Me Please

The knock at the door made us freeze, our bodies still tangled on the sofa, clothes half-undone. Fred’s shirt was open, my dress bunched around my waist, his hands still possessively on my skin. My heart hammered wildly. “Fred, who is that?” I whispered, panic rising in my voice. “We should stop. What if it is someone from the office?”

Before he could answer, the door opened. A graceful woman in her early sixties stepped inside, elegant in a cream blouse and pearls. Fred’s mother. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the scene me on his lap, my breasts nearly exposed, his...