The Next Afternoon

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Stevie drew invisible patterns on Lindsey’s back with her nails, chuckling quietly at the scratch marks that covered his tanned skin. She really got into their strenuous love making sessions, though she had never drawn blood. Lindsey turned his head to face her. “Good Morning, Mrs. Buckingham.” He said. She smiled, amazed at how much she loved being called that. “Good Morning.” She said, leaning forward to kiss him. “What’s the damage this time?” He asked, referring to his back. He too knew how much of her sanity and concentration Stevie invested in their love making, and for as long as he had been making love to her, he always woke up the next day with marks on his back from her nails. He’d often thought it a miracle that Carol Ann had never found out about his one-night stands with Stevie during the Tusk and Mirage tours. “A few marks, I’m afraid. But no worse than usual.” Stevie assured him. She sat up, wrapping the thin sheet around her. “Are you hungry? Should I order room service?” She asked. “Mm. I am hungry.” Lindsey said, rolling over onto his back. “What do you want then?” Stevie asked, looking over her shoulder at him. “I didn’t say I was hungry for food.” Lindsey replied, running a finger over the lowest part of her back possible. “Oh.” Stevie said quietly. She threw the sheet up and pounced.

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