We are almost home and fortunately we have both run out of things to talk about. And I cannot stop thinking about Chuck. He actually followed me home one night, as though he hadn't already had enough of me that day. It was our third and last meeting. Dad was away at a clergy retreat leaving me with the house to myself. It was well into summer, July, and we were having a warm spell. It would have been about this time of evening, when the sun is getting ready to go down for its well deserved rest following a good sixteen hours in the sky. I was famished, and made a ham and cheese sandwich with a big plate full of potato salad. There was a knock on the door. I looked through the peep hole and there he was, shirtless with a backpack, and so incredibly hungry and desirable....
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