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Another erotic tale of Bobby Quiff in a dinner.

We had spent many nights sexting before and after we started dating simply because she was bored.

"Sure" she replied.

"Sorry I missed your bday" I said. Her birthday had been about two weeks before, and since we hadn't spoken in months I deemed it inappropriate to contact her for that.

"It's OK."

"So, what have you been doing with yourself?" I asked.

"College. And on the road a lot with Jay."

Damn, I thought. It was for the best, but I couldn't help resenting the asshole.

"What ya taking?" I was curious. I had continually told her how intelligent she was and pushing her to start college while we dated. She had been a hostess at an Italian restaurant while we were dating, and I knew she could do better.

"Accounting" she said.

She had always been good with numbers.

"How's that going?"

"Good." English apparently still wasn't her strong suit. "All A"s so far."

Traffic started to move. I put the phone down, but couldn't get my mind off of it. I couldn't text and drive, but I didn't want to wait so long between texts that she lost interest.

Finally, another stoppage.

"Very cool. I always told you that you had it in you."

"I have been doing homework all day. I need a beer."

"If I were there, I would buy you a beer" I hinted, not as subtly as I had hoped. She didn't seem to notice.

"I am at Granny's house, and it's hot." Her grandmother was a wonderful woman, but they were pretty poor and she didn't have air conditioning.

"I'm sorry" I said.

We texted back and forth about very mundane stuff the rest of the way home, intermittently as traffic stoppages would allow. As I turned the corner into my neighborhood I got another text.

"So, when are you gonna get me that beer?"

I thought she may be joking, and I shouldn't let myself be drawn in again, but I couldn't help it.

"How about now?"

"OK" she said.

What? Now, how was I going to get out? I was home in my driveway, texting my ex girlfriend, whom I had left my wife for once, while my wife waited inside the house.

"When do you want me to pick you up?"

"I'll meet you. How about the outlets in Perryville? In an hour."

"Sure, I'll be there. I home. I have to change clothes. I am still in scrubs."

I couldn't believe it. Here I was, getting ready to cheat on my wife again. I shouldn't. I know better. But, with Heather, I couldn't help myself.

I went in, and told my wife that I was going out with some people from work, and she didn't question me further. She liked it that I worked with people that I liked, and though not frequently, we di hang out sometimes.

I showered, changed and headed for Perryville.

When I arrived at the outlets, I was looking for the car she told me she would be in, but she saw me first. As she got out and walked toward me, I was stunned at how amazing she looked. She had lost a little bit of weight, just enough to accentuate her already thin waist even more without taking away any of that marvelous pair of tits. Her hair, now dyed a shade or two blonder than the bright strawberry when we dated, was even longer, hanging almost to her waist in curly ringlets. She wore a pair of Daisy dukes and a tube top. Not atypical attire.

I got out of the car and walked around to open her door.

"Where do you want to get a beer?" I asked.

"How about Woodies?" Woodies was a seafood house, specializing in Steamed crab loaded with generous amounts of Old Bay seasoning and served with Corn On The Cob. North East is famous for Woodies up into Philadelphia and to Baltimore. It was also a place where my wife, her friends, and tons of people we know frequented, but as always, I couldn't say no to Heather.

"Sure" I said as I got back in and started to North East.

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