Lazy Daze.

With the hot hot heat, sometimes I keep the boy and myself inside the house. Finally, when the heat (kind of) breaks, I go out to the front stoop with the cocktail. We have a back patio with perfectly good couches and chairs, but for some reason, I like the steps. I can watch the cars, or the fireflies, or the grass. Whatever. Do any of you out there see me? I'm just a preppy-looking cute housewife on her stoop. Who would guess the sorts of things I think or write about? Not my husband, even. Or many of my friends. I keep a lot of myself private, I've found. Protection, fear, selfishness: the reasons could be many.

My husband knows that I write erotica, but both of us fear that he would be intimidated if he read anything I wrote. Those are his words, not mine.

Anyway, if I let someone see all these facets of me, the Jekyll and the Hyde, as it were...well, that's a big deal. But you know that already, right?