I sat alone at a quiet booth in O'Malley's Corner that Saturday night, mulling over a tall, cool one. The best thing I'd seen in 15 years. Hell, after 15 years in the hole, a man certainly deserved a tall, cool one to savor, to have, and to hold.

"You alone?" she said. I looked up into large, brown eyes. Despite her obvious youth and innocence, she was breathtaking. Long, soft brown hair and a killer body to boot. She was obviously a working girl.

"So far," I said.

"Want some company?" She smiled, perfectly white teeth exposed from pouty lips.

"Sure." She sat across me and I ordered her the same draft. She seemed genuinely pleased at my offering and engaged in light conversation.

"You look kind of young," I said. "You a cop?"

She smiled again. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Well, good. Now that we've gotten that out of the way--"

"My name's Kelly."

"Uh...call me Skipper. That's what they've been calling me for the past 15 years. Been too long now to even remember my real name."

She chuckled heartily at that and ran her pink fingers through her long hair. She leaned into me and spoke in a schoolgirl voice. "You're funny. Why haven't I seen you here before?"

"Just got out of jail, hon. Yep. Been in the slammer for 15 years." Her face turned serious but she made no move to leave. Her silence egged me on to tell her my whole life story. "I actually took a cab to my house. Saw my wife taking in some groceries.

"No, I didn't go in. Didn't think it was time. Wasn't ready yet to confront them. 15 years is a long time. My little girl was only four when I went in the joint God, she oughta' be, what, 19 now?"

Kelly nodded. "Well, I guess I can understand your hesitance. You don't want to rush into things. Do you want to call them first? Maybe break the ice over the phone; see how they react?"

I looked into her eyes and saw the sincerity. She really meant well and didn't seem to be turning a trick for a few bucks. I nodded solemnly and agreed to follow her to her place. I paid our tab and we walked the two blocks to her studio loft.

"Real nice, Kelly." I watched her back as she disappeared up to her bedroom.

She called down to me. "There's a phone on the coffee table. I'm going to change. If you want to fix us a drink, the booze's in the cupboard."

I looked at the phone, stared long and hard. And decided on booze first. After I poured our whiskey's, Kelly rejoined me in the livingroom wearing a red kimono.

"Real nice, Kelly," I said again.

She walked towards me and took her drink. She stayed close, sipping her glass, and staring into my eyes. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the better lighting, but I swore she bore a striking resemblance to my wife. A younger Mary...maybe.

"No phone call yet?" She said. I shook my head slowly. "Want to get comfortable first?" I said nothing as she led me upstairs to her loft bedroom. "There's another line up here."

My heart was throbbing as she took the glass from me and set it on her nighttable. Then she turned back to me and began to unbutton my shirt. She pushed my shirt off and started on my belt.

"I don't have a lot of money," I said.

She seemed amused. "That's okay. Every now and then I like to give to charity. You can owe me later if things don't work out with your wife and kid." She pushed my pants and briefs down to my ankles and I stepped out of them; kicked off by shoes. I was throbbing hard by then.

I reached up and pulled the tie on her robe. It fluttered open and I got a glimpse of her magnificent breasts, firm and youthful, bursting with vigor and vitality. I had seen so much death and depression and Kelly was a breath of life.

"You probably need to work out the kinks anyway. I'm doing your wife a big favor, too. You would have probably raped her if you had gone straight home. This way you can take out your frustrations on me."

"My sentiments exactly." I brushed her robe aside and attacked one succulent breast. She leaned her head back and I felt her fingers through my hair, urging me on.

"Mmmm. Yeah." She gasped as I bit down on her erect nipple. "Couldn't very well do this to--what's her name?"

"Mmmm...who?"

"Your wife. What's her name?"

"Mary." I pushed the rest of her robe off and beheld her young body in all its glorious wonder. "My God, Kelly, you're absolutely beautiful."

She smiled and took my hand. She led me to her bed where we fumbled with each other's body, pulling, pushing, pinching, exploring. "Am I as beautiful as Mary?" she purred.