If Tom can find himself some young stuff, she thought, why the bloody fuck can't I do it, too? More important, she had done it. Never before in her almost ten years of marriage had she even considered the idea of committing adultery. That's what it was, she realized, and she wasn't so drunk that she didn't understand the reality. She was about to give herself, body and cunt, to a person she had only just met, and why? Because she wanted to, that's why! Wanted it more, Joanne was certain, tan she had ever wanted anything as long as she had lived. More!

It wasn't a big trailer, and the interior was a Godawful mess. But Joanne remembered her own college days, and the messy apartments and dorm rooms she'd lived in, and she just smiled, Ronnie helping her through the clutter that was strewn across the living room floor. An empty, stray beer can rolled under her foot and she went staggering, jerking on his cock as she did. "Oh, Jesus!" she heard him moan, and for a moment it seemed that he was going to come in her fist. She clenched her hand on him, squeezed hard, and his staggering shudders dwindled, then ceased.

"Almost lost it," he muttered, and by then they were standing in the doorway of a tiny bedroom. Joanne leaned against the shut door while Ronnie drew the curtains, and then he stood, facing her from about three feet away, staring at her, tilting his head this way and that, his lips curled in an unspoken question.

"I've seen you somewhere," he announced finally. Joanne shifted her shoulders as she rested against the door. "Aren't you one of the varsity cheerleaders?"

"No!" she laughed. "Of course not!"

"You're not in my American history survey class?" She shook her head again, and it occurred to her that he certainly thought she was a student at the college, just like he was. Well! she told herself. I guess I haven't gone to pieces, even if I am over thirty!