At this point, the server served beer again. I raised my glass and said: cheers to a new friendship.We started talking about stuff again. I told her that I had done a road trip with 2 strangers for a week in the USA, and she was all ears about that. She asked me how I had met them and if anything unpleasant happened, you know, those sorts of questions. She had tried her luck in singing while in high school, and we talked about that. The kind of people she didn’t like, the kind of people I hated, the worst days of our lives, the worst dates ever- that sort of thing. She told me how she was with some guy for a year before she discovered that he was married.She: It just made me hate every man for a while. This guy who was so caring and loving in so many ways, in the end, was a cold liar. I don’t know what guys get out of it. Where does it take them?I didn’t say anything.She: you are not married, are you?Me: Yes, I have been married for 3 years now.She: really? (looking in my eyes. On weekends, Jim and I would go to town to enjoy “the nightlife,” which doubled as a café during the day and at night, the backroom turned into a small bar with a dance floor where folks could come and kick their heels up. Of course this was tame to most places in the big city but the eighteen and up crowd from around the county seemed to enjoy having a place of their own. The old timers would come to enjoy the music, drink too much and complain about their wives and lives while enjoying draft beer, all you can eat peanuts, a juke box along with the occasional country band. This was where I happened to meet my wife and her four sisters. Little did I know that they were sisters because they each had a distinctively different look. My wife Sara was twenty-one when we met. She has golden hair that flows past her shoulders, blue eyes that pierce right through you, an incredibly tight ass, and B to C cup breasts. She stands 5’9” tall and was all legs! I remember the first time I saw her.
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