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So it could have been that small thin bony body that had as much to do as anything in keeping them together, that’s what he now thinks. Ninety-six pounds, sometimes up to ninety-eight, but evenly distributed, nicely proportioned, and muscular from the waist down. That he could lift her body up as he would a kid’s, hold it in the air by the buttocks and thighs and set it down on top of him, the few times she let them do it in that position, turn it around even when he was on his back and she was completely off the ground, lift it up and down on him repeatedly and without her moving on her own once till they came and if she did first, then still bob her up and down till he came, and if he did first, then he couldn’t go on and she bounced up and down on him but it didn’t work and after he flopped out she complained, but his arms hardly getting tired during any of it, and it wasn’t that he was a strong guy, though his shoulders were pretty big. Also that her body was so limber, hard and quick. Meaning, what he liked about it. And what she wore in the bedroom sometimes — he’s saying what also got him excited: sheerest of outfits, tiniest of briefs, rarely any socks, stockings or bra and never a watch, and all he had to do was see the small line of pubic hair on top — was she lying when she said she never razored it to get it that way? He didn’t think so, since she also said she wished it was bushier so at least in that area she didn’t look like a pubey girl — and he’d make a move. He also liked picking her up, cradling her in his arms and carrying her to bed that way or to a chair or wherever they’d do it, once on a covered toilet seat, she sitting facing him and flushing the toilet when she started making noises or before she sat on him would turn the sink faucet on and let it run, because her son was playing in his room down the hall. And he never had to suggest twice that they make love. He’d raise an eyebrow a certain way — cock it like a fop; she knew the signal — or would only have to say “So, what do you say?” or give a particular smile, more like a dumb grin, that only meant one thing to them and she usually said “Sure, I’m game, give me a minute,” or “I’m ready, are you?” for he mostly said it or gave these signs when he thought she’d be interested, since she often gave little hints herself: smile more seductive than her others, brushing past him making sure their hips touched when it was obvious she could have more easily gone around — and she’d whip all her clothes off, sometimes letting the underpants dangle on the end of her raised foot before she flipped it into the air and caught it, get under the covers and pull them down on his side, maybe plump his pillow in the middle, say “How much time we have?” if it was before he was going to work or they had people coming over or one of them had to pick up her son at nursery or he was returning from school on the bus or expected back soon from a friend’s home.