She met him by the dugout after the game. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. She could feel his penis pressing against her, half-erect under the starched black tuxedo pants. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. At least for one moment, it was. “Then I don’t take this as final.
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