drew in his stomach. His eyes opened wider and
softened. "What do you want?" she asked.

"To please you." She looked at the rose, weighed it in her hand to get
the feel of it, and looked back at Patrick. He did not run away. He was
willing to suffer for her. His mouth was slightly open and he had a
large erection. She indicated the end of the bed with the rose and slid
down, pulling a pillow with her for her head. Patrick moved around in
front of her. She pointed at the flagstones of the porch floor.

"So, please me." He got on his knees and she placed her heels on his
back. Willow's knees were slowly opening and closing as she rubbed
harder. Her long slim back arched. Patrick. "Ahhh," she cried softly.
"Ahhhhhhh, ahhhh, ahhh." Her feet slid out and her legs collapsed on
the bed. She was warm and wet and out of breath. She opened her eyes.
The air was bright, almost vivid. Patrick had disappeared. She would
reward him another time. Laundry, she thought cheerfully.

A crow called twice. She rolled over on her side and watched a squirrel
jump onto the trunk of a maple and wait, tail curled, listening.
"Squirrelie," she said. "Yes." She sat up, swinging her feet down to
the cool flagstones. "Yes," she said. "Shower." Squirrelie ran up the
tree out of view.

Willow made a pile of clothes on the cotton coverlet and took the
bundle to the washing machine in a corner of the kitchen. She pulled
off her T-shirt and walked into the bathroom where she regarded herself
in the mirror before getting into the shower. Her breasts were too
small, she thought as hot water ran deliciously down her back; but they
were pretty. Her long waist and long legs gave her body a flowing
athletic line. I do have an adequate ass, she said to herself, soaping
it. She was continually unsure as to whether she should throw it around
or wait until The Right One discovered it for himself.

"You are so beautiful," The Right One said, unable to lift his eyes.
She swayed modestly.

"I have these three tasks," she said and burst out laughing in the
shower. The bread, God. She washed her hair and went on with the day.

Amber returned mid-afternoon and was unable to convince her to go to
the party. Shortly after Amber left, Willow considered the house
(clean), her hair (brushed), and the rest of the day (free). She put a
paperback copy of _Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch_ in her
bag and rode out past AhnRee's. He was drinking something by the