. what was her name? Shit, he couldn't ask her again. But that voice. There was a longing in it, a need that made him turn away from what's-her-name a...d look toward the stage. She was a woman slightly taller than average, with a thick mane of rich dark hair. She wore a classically chic black dress that smoothly hugged her curves and came down to about mid thigh. A pair of stockings covered her shapely legs, and he wondered if they were thigh-highs, or if perhaps she wore a garter. Then he saw. The widow accepted whatever was offered because to do otherwise would mean starvation. It had been that way for a long time in her village. She said that other villages that she’d visited were the same.It made me sit and ponder for a while. Sygor wasn’t the only problem arising out of this clash of cultures. I knew that the only way to defuse the situation, was to confront it head on.I called a meeting the next night. It started right after supper had finished and the dishes had been cleaned. It turned out the bastard had left me for dead. He had some kind ofinsurance thing on me and he had planned on going to a convention as partof a business deal. He figured I would be dead from the overdose orwithdrawal of the drug. Wasn't he surprised, when after 2 months of hell Iactually pulled through and began to mend. I had weighed 59 lbs when Iwent into the hospital that day and I was just topping a 100, 6 monthslater, when I was released.The divorce was brutal! He tried every trick. We got down to business and Jane said she had to take her fleece off as it was hot in the cabin. She pulled off her fleece and the bottom caught on to her tshirt underneath pulling everything up giving me a flash of her sizeable breasts in a very nice black and red push up bra. She laughed and commented that here she was flashing her tits and we hardly knew each other. I replied that she had fantastic underwear (a real turn on of mine). Jane was a natural flirt and I got the sense she was keen.
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