From what I could tell by things he'd say during our work days together that Maraza was something of a tyrant; and that she made Solomon's existence a...kind of living hell. I'd met her only a few times, and from what I saw, she was a horrible person, who was steadily draining Solomon of his money, his energy, and his life!Once in a while, and partly in defiance of Maraza's wishes, Solomon and I would go out to a bar had have some beers together, shoot some pool, and just hang out---and of. I recognised it at once. I didn’t need to open it to see the poem I had written ten years ago. I had sent it to Mary. It had been the first and last time I had sent anything to her. Even when I sent it I had known that it was too late. My memory went back to ten years and two weeks ago. I had asked Mary if I could take her to the Valentine Dance. Her reply was still engraved on my heart. ‘I’m sorry, John. Someone else asked me and I accepted.’ She had hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.. She looked unsure of herself.I walked toward her until my knees were touching hers and, placing my hands on her legs, bent to lightly kiss her face. First her check and then her lips, softly running my tongue over her sweet, sweet lips. She was breathing hard, but not yet kissing me back. I lightly ran my tongue over the soft flesh around her lips as my hands gently urged her to spread her legs.Dropping her crossed arms to her side she spread her legs, just enough for me to fall to my knees. “So,” I said. “We're here.” “Yes, we are,” he smiled. “We don't have much time.” I expected him to push me against the door, take me over with his lips. Or maybe pull me on to the bed and let our lusts take over. At least, give me some sort of instruction. I knew he wasn't a virgin. He just sat there. This was real. This wasn't a fantasy. “Why don't you take off your dress,” he said finally. “Okay.” I breathed in sharply. I was nervous about this part, almost as much as the actual sex. I had.
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