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The smell. Lavender and bubblegum and alcohol – one of those Victoria’s Secret bodysprays. It clings to her, just like those baby blue leggings she wears under an oversized Playboy baseball t-shirt. She spends more time in the gym than I do, her figure slim and curvy at the same time. I catch myself staring, and my scowl deepens. ‘I don’t know why you’re here, but you should go.’ I should stop there, but I don’t. ‘Jason is meeting me here before class.’ I tell myself I don’t care when her breath catches, I force myself to feign nonchalance, tidying a hopelessly disorganized stack of pages. I can’t read the words, they’re blurring together. I squint, trying to focus on the letters instead of the lingering lavender-bubblegum-ethyl-alcohol scent. It’s ancient Greek. That’s why I can’t read the words. ‘So you’re back with Jason?’ she asks. Her voice is high, unnaturally so. She too feigns nonchalance. She’s not as good at it as I am. ‘Since when?’ she asks. It’s not a question, it’s a. And say things like ‘you are looking lovely today.’ My wife has told me that both he and his wife have confided in her separately that they don’t have an interesting sex life anymore. Why would they talk about sex? His wife is heavily overweight and quite flat-chested and doesn’t look very feminine at all whereas my wife is short, fairly attractive with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes, 36d breasts and a good complexion. On one occasion I arrived home and my wife was obviously braless, her nipples seemingly slightly aroused as she faced directly to Rich as they talked outside the back of the house on a warm day. He exchanged greetings with me and I went into the dining room. I looked out and I’m sure they didn’t notice me. I could see my wife’s nipples looking fully erect and even heard a stutter in Rich’s speech as though he couldn’t quite concentrate on what he was saying. I walked into the kitchen and as my wife glanced towards me I crossed my arms over my chest and.
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