the subtle jitteriness in his voice, Jackie could sense that
something was troubling her man. Like maybe he was hiding something.
Had slipped up. Committed a foul act she wouldn’t want to know about.

Women, 40 Nights is an old story I wrote as a member of an old Yahoo
erotica group I was in. Used to be called Where’s Wallace, which is
lame as all hell, but more fitting and less misleading than what I
chose to go with. It’s one of those intimate tales I’ve become known
for with minimal characters, locations, and plot. It’s far from my
favorite, or my best, but I’m on a mission to tell as many stories as
I can, so I felt it needed to be told.

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