Freaky Deaky

Cover Freaky Deaky
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Genres: Fiction
She told Chris her first husband never read in bed, he watched TV. Then corrected that. “I mean the only husband I ever had.” Chris said, “Uh-huh.” He had on a pair of his dad’s reading glasses, and she felt she was seeing another side of him. Greta looked over one time and said, “Excuse me, do I know you?” About eleven thirty he went out to the kitchen and brought back two cans of beer. Greta looked at him in his underwear and said, “You have scars on your legs,” sounding surprised. “What in the world happened to you?” He got back in bed and told her about the old Vietnamese guy standing on the hand grenade, Greta sitting up chewing on her thumbnail, not saying a word. He finished and she kissed him, her eyes moist. They kissed some more and Greta asked Chris who did he think he was, Woody Allen? Woody was always making out in bed with Diane Keaton or somebody with his glasses on. In movies, anyway. They let it happen and made love, trying to take their time but then hurrying to get there.
Freaky Deaky
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