A coworker’s invitation to play turns into a wild three-way surprise.

I worked the 4:30 a.m. shift in the butcher’s shop with a chick named Marissa. She was older than me. A short spitfire of a woman with a pixie cut and an ass that wouldn’t quit.

She walked in Monday morning and, as usual, tossed her purse to the side. “How goes it?”

“Meat. Cutting. Too fucking early in the morning,” I muttered. “The usual.”

She gave me a laugh and a lingering look — different than any other she’d ever cast my way — and then put on her apron. “Same old, same old.” Then she went about getting her work done, leaving me baffled by the sudden shift in her attitude toward me.

I’d chalked it up to my imagination by... Read More