Lauren was a sophisticated and stylish 30-something who maneuvered easily in the corporate crowd. She had climbed the ladder and done well for herself, living in the city in her own one-bedroom.

She enjoyed her nights out with the girls and had a healthy sense of humor, but she wasnt exactly known as a free-spirit. There was nothing crazy in her past, no girls-gone-wild, except one drunken Spring Break many years ago in college when she had a tiny butterfly tattooed on her hip.

"I was young then," Lauren thought. Even so, she liked knowing it was thereespecially when she was sitting in a conference room listening to financial projections with the suits.

Lauren did have one secret even more hidden than the butterfly, however. Not even her closest friends knew.

Lauren first became aware of it when she was a kid. Over the years, she progressed from adolescent confusion and denial"Im such a freak!"to curiosity tinged with shame, to resigned acceptance: "This is just how I am."

Underneath the business attire and designer frames, she was just a girl who happened to likepies. And just like any other straight girl, she was looking for a guy.

But not just any guy.

Over the years Lauren had come to the realization that, for her, the act of sex was secondary. Being piedand pieing a guywas what really mattered to her. The anticipation, the setup, the teasing, the role play, the erotic and sensual thrill of it all.

At least, thats the way it always played out in her head.

Reality had been much different.

There was Tom, in college, to whom Lauren hinted that it might be fun to have a pie fight like the one he had just flipped past on TV. Uh, right, said Tom, and Lauren heard him sharpen the t like an icy dagger of disrespect.

What! stated Lauren.

Dont be stupid, he said, and turned back to the TV.

After graduation, in a hotel room following a wedding reception, there waswas it Jack?who got up from the bed with a mischievous smile Stay there, he saidand went to the bathroom to getmaybe?

But no, he returned with some ice in a cup, and left the can of shaving cream sitting by the sink. Lauren had to stifle her disappointment as Jack playfully ran a piece of melting ice across her breast.

In her late 20s there was Rob, to whom she confessed flat-out. Rob was a nice guy, always ready to please her. He let Lauren pie him with shaving cream on a paper plate. But even though he laughed gamely, Lauren noticed that he couldnt wait to wipe it off.

And when Lauren bounced onto the bed and turned to face him and said, Now pie me! it was as if she had to twist his arm to get him to do it. Rob seemed to think that it was tantamount to hitting her. I cant pie you, youre so beautiful!

Laurens heart sank.

Even her girlfriends didnt really relate.

She remembered a conversation at brunch one Sunday in the city. One of them told how her boyfriend had been continually hinting that he wanted to try some liquid latex. But, she sighed, looking unsure. Its just not me, you know?

That kind of stuff is just a littleI dont know. Odd, said another girl at the table.

Theres a lot of strange shit out there, said another.

Lauren said nothing, and took another sip of her mimosa. At that moment her little butterfly felt a bit like a scarlet letter.

It was not long after, with the self-assurance of her adult mind, that she came to a rational understanding of herself and her problem.

"For me," thought Lauren, "at least one pied facepreferably mineis required for an intimate sexual connection with a guy."

"I like being this way," she realized.

"But when he doesnt understand, or thinks its stupid, or worse! If he thinks its weird, thenwhats the point?"

By the time Lauren met Scott, she had little hope. She knew there were guys into her fetishthat was easy to see on the Net. There was a whole messy fetish subculture, with websites and downloads.

But Lauren didnt feel comfortable looking for a guy on the Net. She wanted someone she could get to know and trust in person, someone interesting, someone she could fall in love with.

What were the odds, she wondered. How many guys shared her kink? One in ten-thousand?

Lauren knew Scott from work. He was on the thirtieth floor and she was on the twenty-second, but they met through mutual friends, and Lauren felt immediately attracted to him.

Over a month or so, she and Scott ran into each other in various placesa bar with friends after work, in the office elevator, or at the bagel shop down the street. They became friends.

Scott didnt seem like a typical guy to Lauren. He was quiet, for one thing, not brash. Like most of the girls she knew, Lauren was drawn to confidencebut unlike most of her friends, Lauren saw confidence in guys who had an inner-strength, who didnt need to strut or talk a good game. Lauren liked the strong and silent type.

Even though Scott was on the quiet side, Lauren discovered that when she talked with him, the conversation flowed easily.

So when one day Scott asked Lauren if she wanted to go with him to the fall festival in the city park, Lauren said, Sure. She had only been making conversation when she asked him if he had anything planned that weekend, but as soon as he described it, she thought, "I hope he asks me."

Great, he replied, itll be fun.

That Saturday was comfortably cool, with the leaves bright yellow and orange, and the sky a clear cloudless blue. Lauren and Scott met at the park entrance and immediately struck up a conversation as they began to walk.

It was the usual stuff at first: what was going on at work, people in the office, the typical corporate politics.

Then they branched out: things going on around town, current world events. Lauren was pleasantly surprised to find that Scott could talk intelligently about the Hopper exhibition (she loved art) at the local museum, and that he played the cellonot seriously, but he knew a little Bach, and that impressed her.

Meanwhile, Scott learned about the adult-education classes Lauren liked to take at the local college: figure drawing, Middle-Eastern cooking (they found that they both liked falafel), and the belly-dancing class she was taking just now.

They talked about books they had read. He had a natural intellectual curiosity, just like she did.

The fair was the usual assortment of booths, music, and food. There were artists, lots of crafts, and face painting for the kids. But Lauren enjoyed just wandering around with Scott, getting to know him. After a while, Lauren realized that she was smiling a lot.

Over an hour had pleasantly passed, and Lauren was examining some sculpture on a table with Scott by her side, when he said, Hey, wanna get some dessert?

Without looking up, Lauren replied, Dessert? You dont want to have some lunch first?

When Scott didnt say anything, Lauren looked up. Scott directed her eyes across the park path to a bright yellow wooden booth.

Inside the booth stood a vertical board into which was cut a large hole. A target symbol, like the one from the department store, had been painted in red stripes around the hole. Then Lauren saw the white splatter marks. Just as she thought, "Is that what I think" a man put his head through the hole from behind and a woman reached for a white, circular object on the table.

Scott gestured at it with his thumb and smiled as if to say, how about that?

It caught Lauren completely by surprise. She couldnt think what to say. A charity pie-in-the-face booth was natural enough to run across at a fair, after all, but how should she react? Should she just laugh it off, or say something suggestive, or what? Laurens mental wires became crossed.

Oh, she stammered, and then, Yeah, ha ha and smiled at Scott.

I always got a kick outta that, said Scott.

Out of what? replied Lauren, as though she had no idea. Lauren felt herself getting a little flushed.

A pie in the face, said Scott matter-of-factly. I remember when I was a kid and going to summer day camp at the local YMCA. They had this festival day with the usual games and stuff, but then there was this pie booth. And this cute camp counselorI mean, I was like five or something, but I think some part of me knew she was cute, you know?so she was the one getting pied, and I would get to the front of the line, smush a paper plate with shaving cream in her face, wait for her reaction, and then I would go right to the end of the line and do it overand over and over.

Lauren was incredulous, but she played it cool. She must have been like, Uh oh, here he comes again, said Lauren with a grin.

She was, because after it was done she came up to me and poked me in the ribs and she was like, You hit me hard ya little squirt, said Scott. But she was smiling.

Lauren could hardly believe what she had just heard. They walked past the booth, and she felt a playful yearning. Lauren glanced at it out of the corner of her eye, hoping Scott wouldnt notice.

Just as she was thinking of opening up and relating one of her childhood pie episodesthere was that TV show she loved to watch where people were pied all the timeScott said, Speaking of food, how about lunch?

They walked over to the food trucks, perused the menus, ordered, and sat down together at a table. All the while they kept talkingbut the dessert-related topic was history.

After the leisurely lunch, they walked back to the main gate and turned to each other. Well, I had a good time, said Scott. Seems like we just got here.

It did to Lauren tootime always flew when she was with someone she liked. I know, said Lauren. Thanks for inviting me, I had a good time too.

Scott asked Lauren if shed be interested in doing something again, which of course she was, though her reply was only casually affirmative"cant be too obvious," she thought. But when Scott leaned in to kiss Lauren on the cheek, Lauren thought she felt affectionhe lingered a bit longer than a friendly peck. Or maybe she was just imagining things.

Then Lauren walked homeshe had to get ready for her belly-dancing class. But her mind was racing with thoughts of Scott. "Does he like me?" She went through the possible evidence, recounting their stroll through the park moment-by-moment, weighing the possibility. A look in his eyes here, something he said there.

And of course, there was that talk about pies. In bed that night, Lauren couldnt get it out of her mind. "So heres this amazingly cute guy, friendly, smart, and we wind up talking aboutof all things! thought Lauren.

"Is it possible? That he feels the same way I do?" Lauren brought her corporate reasoning to bear on the problem. "OK. So he sayswhat did he sayhe gets a kick out of it."

"He said a kick, not a kink," Lauren thought.

"Hes probably like anyone else, thinks its funny. Probably just another guy who likes The Three Stooges."

"But what if"

"Could it be possible?"

"Im getting WAY ahead of things. Does he even like me?"

Turning from side to side, it wasnt until after 2 a.m. that Lauren fell asleep.

On Monday, Lauren had lunch with her friend Lisa at work. Lauren was eager to talk with Lisa, because Lisa knew Scott. Maybe shed have the inside scoop.

Lauren and Lisa had known each other for years. They met through Junior League, and found they had the same alma mater. Lisa was married, and she took an active interest in Laurens love life: encouraging her, giving advice when Lauren needed itand when she didnt.

Even so, Lisa didnt know about Laurens fetish. Only Lauren (and an old boyfriend) knew about that.

So what do you think? asked Lauren.

I think he likes you. He kissed you, didnt he?

On the cheek

What did you want him to do, stick his tongue down your throat?

No, but I thought we made a connection.

Well, probably he did too. Just that, Lisa took a bite of her salad, some guys dont like PDA, ya know?

Forget PDA, if I can just get some DA, Ill be OK

Girl, never mind that, you want some S-E-X is what you want.

I want some P-I-E, thought Lauren, and took a bite of her sandwich.

Has he called yet?

Not yet. You think he will?

Hmm. Magic Eight-Ball saysoutlook good! Lisa replied, as though she knew something.

Maybe I should call him. Lauren took a sip of her Diet Coke, ignoring Lisas hint.

Let him call you. Makes guys feel like theyre in control. Anyway, what you should be concerned with is making sure he knows you like him.

You think I should jump him, dont you.

NoooI mean, if you want to, surejust, I dont know. Think back to your date in the park. What did you guys talk about? Play off that. Lets him know youre interested in him.

Well, he likes art, and he plays the cello. I told him about my cooking class, my belly-dancing class, my

Bingo! Lisa pointed at Lauren.

What, cook him dinner?

A belly-dance!

A belly-dance? Really?

Definitely, replied Lisa. I mean, there are guys who would take something like that the wrong way, but Im pretty sure Scott would like it. Hes got an open mind.

Lauren had to think about that. What she really wanted to do was rectify her lapse in the parkwhen Scott brought up the pie topic, she felt like she had miserably failed to swing that door open. With each passing hour it was bothering her more. How many chances in life would she get?

Maybe they should just share a bottle of wine, she thought, and she should start up the conversation again: So tell me more about your pie fetish she would say with her best flirty look.

Or not. A belly-dance certainly would be more fun. And if it bombed? Well, then he probably wasnt the right guy for her to begin with. But Lauren had a hunch about him.

First, however, Scott had to call.

Her phone rang that evening, and Lauren felt a rush of adrenaline when she heard his voice. She quickly took the lead. How about coming over to my place Friday, she suggested. Theres a great Thai place nearby that delivers, she said, and afterwards, whateverwe can hang out, watch a movie, go out if we wantOh! And you have to see the belly-dance routine that I learned in class. Ive got the music, and the costume. You can be my audience.

Sure, sounds good. Thatll definitely be a first for me, said Scott. No girl had ever offered to dance for him. Scott was definitely intriguedand a little flattered.

On Friday evening Scott rang the bell at the front entrance of the apartment building and Lauren buzzed him up. He arrived carrying a good bottle of Riesling, and at the door he gave Lauren another kiss on the cheek as he handed her the wine. You look great, Scott said, and Lauren could tell that he meant it.

She poured a couple of glasses and they clinked a toast.

Lisa says hi by the way, said Scott.

Did you see her at work today? asked Lauren.

Yeah. She mentioned you were having some kind of computer problem.

I am, the stupid thing is crashing all the time. Hey, maybe you could have a look!

So thats why you invited me over, said Scott with smile, Fix your computer for ya.

Lauren played right along. You got it, that and a free bottle of wine.

I can take a look at it, but itll cost you.

Hmm, what do you charge? said Lauren, scrunching her lips.

One Thai dinner for two, delivered here tonight.

Tough sell, but OK. Its over there, and Lauren pointed to a desk in the corner. Seriously, thanks for looking.

No problem. So, lets see what we have here and Scott sat down and began clicking, opening windows, examining settings. Lauren went back to the kitchen to set out some snacks.

After a few minutes, she heard Scott. OK, I see what your problem is. Its this enormous stash of porn youve got here, its clogging everything up.

Riiiight, said Lauren, smiling as she walked back over to Scott.

OK, maybe not. But you definitely dont have enough memory for the apps youre running.

Do I need a new computer?

No, you could just add some memory, a couple of gigs maybe.

And how do I go about that?

Well you could take it to a computer store and theyll do it for youor, maybe I could do it...

But itll cost me, right? said Lauren with a smirk.

No, Ill do it for free. Lauren noticed that Scott didnt always go for the snappy answer. She liked that.

Free is good, she said.

I think Ive got some extra dimm sticks at work. Ill check on Monday.

Dimm sticks?

Yeah, memory, Scott paused. Sounds like something on a Chinese take-out menu, doesnt it? He broke into a caricature, Yes, Ill have an order of fried dimm sticks please, Lauren burst out with a laugh, and some dipping sauce

I knew you could make me laugh, said Lauren.

I shouldnt give the wrong impression. Im not some kind of funny-guy.

Thats right, youre more of a slapstick guy, huh? Lauren crossed her arms, wine glass in one hand.

Scott played it cool: Exactly. Depends on the context though.

Ill try to remember that. So, speaking of dimm sticks, lets order some Thai, said Lauren. They both went over to the couch and sat side-by-side, arms and shoulders touching, perusing the menu.

After the food arrived, they had a little candle-lit dinner at Laurens kitchen table. Lauren had remembered to buy fresh flowers on the way home from work, and she put them in a small vase on the table. Their conversation continued to flow.

So, said Lauren, I should have asked you to bring your cello, and we could have some nice dinner music. Of course you wouldnt be able to eat, but

Yeah, the lady is home in her case, replied Scott, as he took a sip of his wine.

Thats your lady, huh? I didnt know you were in a relationship.

Only a musical one. Long term though, and stable.

How about non-musical relationships? asked Lauren, becoming more serious.

Off and on, replied Scott.

Me too. Not by choice though. Lauren poked at her curry.

Yeah, me either. The thing is this And Scott leaned back and looked up, as though he were forming his thoughts.

My whole theory is, everyones wired differently. I mean, we all get that, right?different politics, different opinions, different personalities. And its like, part of the key to being happy, I think, is understanding, on a deep level, that other people are wired differently than you. And theyre gonna behave differently than you.

Lauren didnt disagree.

Scott went on: So when youre in a relationship, obviously you find out about the other persons quirks. You know, the stupid little thingsthe way they laugh, or dribble milk down their chin when theyre eating cereal, or whatever.

Lauren smiled.

But I think its the moreunusual quirks that can either be the key to happiness, or unhappiness in a relationship. Either you really understand and embrace the fact that everyone is wired differently, or you dont, and if you dont, then the other persons quirks become a problem. They become weird. Maybe even threatening.

And if you do? Understand, I mean, said Lauren.

Then they become part of what makes that person beautiful to you.

I think quirks are what make life interesting, said Lauren.

Yeah, me too. But as for my relationships, well...the other person didnt always see it that way he trailed off.

Lauren could certainly relate. Well, you always have your cello, she joked, lightening the mood. Scuse me, your lady.

Yeah, gosh, I need to get back to her. Is it that late already? He started to get up, looking at an invisible watch on his wrist. Lauren laughed.

After dinner they went back to the couch. Both Lauren and Scott had a few glasses of wine inside them by then. Lauren, at least, definitely felt warm and loose and happy.

So, whens this belly dance of yours, said Scott.

Lauren had been hoping he would bring it up. You wanna see it? she asked.

Of course! Been waiting all week, replied Scott, and there seemed to be no sarcasm in his voice.

OK. Lauren stated as she got up. So, you stay here, and Im going to put my costume on, she said with a smile, and get my music, and then well start. OK?

Sure, said Scott, smiling back. Ever since their phone call on Monday he had been imagining the smooth skin of her belly, which he guessed (correctly) held a cute belly-button. Scott sat on the couch and flipped through the TV channels while Lauren went back to her bedroom.

The costume was easy enough for her to put on: harem pants, loose and wide; waist scarf, and a lace halter top. Plenty of sequins and oriental blingbracelets and earrings. Lots of skin.

Then her make-up. At the mirror on her vanity table Lauren thickened her liner, going right along the water line, and brushed a seductive smoky-gold shadow on her lids. She pulled the liner and shadow back towards her hairline. She thickened her lashes, but left her cheeks and eyebrows alonethey still looked good from before.

But then her lips: working quickly, she removed her red lipstick and replaced it with a flat dark gold. Then she patted a smooth sheen of metallic gold along her lower lip, and some on her upper. She brushed her whole face with a fine dusting of glitter, and brushed some across her belly. As an afterthought, she patted a little more of it on her lips. Make sure he knows you like him, thought Lauren. "What would Lisa think if she could see me now."

She backed away from the mirror and looked at herself. She looked exotic. And a little erotic. She felt her heart beating. "I hope Im right about him. I hope I hope."

Almost ready, Lauren sang out as she swung around the corner from the bedroom. Scott looked up from the TV. Woah he said, taken aback, his eyes widening. Without taking his eyes off her, he clicked the Off button and tossed the TV remote aside. Lauren smiled at him.

Like it? asked Lauren with a flourish, indicating her costume. With every gesture, the bracelets on Laurens arms jingled.

Wow, said Scott, who was now sitting erect on the edge of the couch. His eyes traveled her figure. The lovely woman he just had dinner with had suddenly turned into a fantasy.

All I can say. Wow, he repeated. Lauren smiled again. How come you never wear this to work?

Hmm. Not sure that would be a good idea, said Lauren, looking up and scrunching her lips in a look of mock thoughtfulness.

True. OK, soyou really know how to get a guys attention, said Scott, even though you already had mine.

Lauren felt warm and good, basking in the clearly adoring gaze of a damn cute guy, a guy who she really liked. It was a feeling of control, almost. Yet Lauren was nervous. Everything depended on what was about to happen.

She set her iPod and speakers on the coffee table. Then she partly unfolded a bed sheet on the carpet in the middle of the room, about six feet square. Scotts eyes followed her every move.

OK, we have to set the mood now. She dimmed the lights and brought the lit candles over from the dinner table. She lit a few more candles and placed them around the little living room. Their flickering light cast mysterious shadows on the walls.

Then Lauren went to the table and brought over a chair, and set it down in the middle of the room, facing the sheet on the floor.

You sit here, she said, in an inviting tone.

Front row seat, said Scott, as he got up and sat in the chair, facing Lauren, who was now standing several feet before him on the sheet. The coffee table and speakers were behind her. With some imagination, the shadowy room looked like the interior of some swank exotic nightclub.

OK, so, this is what weve been learning in class the past few weeks, said Lauren, as she turned to start the music. This goes on for a few minutes, soenjoy!

After a nervous second"I cant believe Im about to do this," she thoughtmusic filled the apartment. Exotic stringed instruments, with something that sounded kind of like an oboe, wove a texture back and forth under a scintillating shower of hand drums and cymbals.

Lauren began to move, her arms rising up from her sides and her mid-section undulating in waves, slowly at first, as the sound rose and fell. Laurens body writhed seductively, and she kept her eyes focused directly on Scotts. He returned her gaze, his hands resting on his knees.

The flickering candles flashed off Laurens costume and reflected off her metallic lips, and sparkled in her eyes. Lauren noticed that Scott was trying to keep it under control, but was having trouble holding back a schoolboy grin.

The music began to build in volume and texture, its tempo inevitably quickening. Laurens body mirrored the waves of sound, as though she had become a physical manifestation of the harmony. Her supple skin bulged and curved, her earrings danced, her bracelets clinked and flashed. It was like something from the pages of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights. Scott was transfixed.

After a minute or so the music accelerated even more, and Lauren transitioned into her improvised choreography. This was the part just for Scott, the part that was not what she learned in class.

She stepped sideways to a small table along the wall, and opened the lid on an innocuous cardboard box that Scott hadnt noticed before. Her stomach still pulsing to the music, Lauren with both hands lifted something out of the box and stepped back in front of Scott, all in one continuous movement, dancing as she went. She held it out at Scott with both hands as she swayed and smiled a mischievous smile.

She had made the pie that afternoontwo frozen crust shells she baked in the oven, then stuck together with a thin layer of vanilla pudding, and filled with a creamy white mixture of whipped topping and marshmallow fluff. It had sat in its cardboard hiding place the whole evening, waiting for the spotlight.

Laurens heart was thumping now as Scotts eyes appeared to double in size. She could see his lips mouth the words, NoWay, but she couldnt hear it over the music which was loud now, fast, pulsing, the drums and cymbals beating faster and faster.

She balanced the pie in her left hand, keeping it still, as the rest of her body undulated and pulsed to the music. Then she passed it to her right hand and again held it still, seeming to dance around it. She danced right up to Scott and bent over slightly, holding the pie up to her chin and smiling devilishly at him. Scotts eyes flashed from the Lauren to the pie and back again.

Lauren danced back into the middle of the sheet she had laid on the floor. There was no going back now, no chickening out. Lauren knew the music, and at the precise moment: a climactic Slap! on the drums, she smashed the pie into her face with both hands, then released her arms and let the music take them, like serpents writhing up and down by her side. Underneath her costume, the little butterfly on her hip swooped and soared.

Her eyes closed under the cream and crust, and Lauren was blind for a moment. Still dancing, she squeezed her eyes tight and then slowly opened them. It worked: she could see through the cream, right to Scott, still erect at the edge of his seat, his mouth agape in wonder.

Lauren had made the pie well: her face was covered. Sticky white fragments of crust landed in her cleavage. Bright cream streaked her hair along the sides of her face.

Lauren danced on. In the darkness of the room, with the candles and dense racing music, her face weaved and flashed like a ghostly spirit, and it was as if Lauren had transcended her earthly feminine form. She was Lauren, and she was also like the incarnation of some ancient pagan goddess, dancing a ritual dance in front of leaping flames, her face smeared with pale wet clay, sparks soaring into the night sky, her male supplicant before her.

She felt the indescribable thrill of risk. She felt free. She felt wild.

Then the music stopped with an orchestral hit, and Lauren struck her final pose, statuesque, her eyes fixed straight at him through the shadows. She could feel her stomach throbbing as her lungs pumped oxygen into her adrenalized blood.

A creamy piece of crust tumbled from her face and landed on the bare skin of her inner left breast.

Scott was cast under her spell. He couldnt move.

And in that frozen moment, the pagan goddess dissolved and it was Lauren againnot corporate Lauren, not sophisticated city-girl Lauren, but Lauren.

She let her arms drop by her side, and she waited.

Here I am, she thought.

And this is MY quirk.

Am I weird to you?

Or am I beautiful?

She felt these thoughts together, all at once.

But now Lauren needed words to break the silence. She was about to say something like: "Hows that for context?" But before she could speak, Scott stood up as though about to head to the door.

Then he took two steps forward and stopped right in front of Lauren, inches apart. Scott touched the sides of her arms gently.

He paused, looking up and down her body, then he rested his gaze gently on her face.

Youre beautiful, he said.

They were the two most confident words Lauren had ever heard from a guy, ever.

And then he kissed her. Full on her creamy lips.

Laurens eyes bulged. "Hes kissing me!" she thought.

The problem was, she couldnt breathe now: her nose was obstructed with pie filling. She let go a mmmph! and Scott pulled back, his mouth coated with slippery sugar that he began to lick away.

You taste good too, he smirked.

Sorry, I couldnt breathe there for a second. Lauren blew out her nose lightly, just enough to clear her nostrils. Meanwhile, her brain was racing: "What is he thinking?" she wondered.

And then Scott said it, looking straight into her eyes.

So. Looks like we both share a pie fetish.

When Laurens ears heard pie fetish her heart soared. Oh my God. He gets it! He gets me! He understands!

All of the sudden she felt giddy and lightweight. She laid her hands on his chest and bounced a little on her toes, and looked up into his eyes. I do, she said softly and slowly. I do have a pie fetish.

Me too, said Scott.

It was like Christmas and winning the lottery at the same time. And Lauren could hold back no longer.

She pulled him in, and their mouths opened for each other as they met. Lauren felt the mass of his body full against hers now, and minutes passed as Scott and Lauren eagerly tasted each other for the first time.

Then their lips parted, and their eyes locked. Lauren smiled and wiped some cream from Scotts mouth with her fingers. Before she could lower her hand, Scott clasped them and gently licked them clean. Lauren felt her breath stop short. When he released her hand, Lauren raised herself on her toes and kissed him once more.

Scott glanced over at the empty cardboard box. Got another?

Another? asked Lauren.

Scott tapped his finger on his chest, pointing at himself.

Lauren realized: "He wants me to pie him!"

Sorry, I only made one, she said a little sheepishly.

Next time, said Scott.

Next time, said Lauren. Scott hugged her, and for the first time in her life, she saw a lifetime of next times.