She is cute, young. Calls herself Natasha. Hard to make her age, but Don bets she is nineteen or twenty. Thin blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, worn jean jacket. Thirty days sober. He smiles at her and wait for her to slip out. She reaches for the door handle, then stops. “Do you want to come up?” she says. Her face is turned from him, looking into the street. He’s surprised, speechless. Don is a tradesman, used to making quick decisions. He keeps his intense blue eyes on the back of the girl’s head. His wife knows when the meeting ends but is usually asleep by the time he gets home. He reminds himself that he’s been sober for as long as this young lady has been alive. He feels his cock swell, his breath quicken. “Sure,” he says. “You got coffee?” Looking him in the eye, she grins. Her smile lights up her face. “Tea,” she says. She is one attractive girl. Small upturned nose, clear blue eyes. Never been in Carnal before this month. Don parks the car and they run to her door.
