I walk in ten minutes before closing. I look for the eggs. All are gone. There are more in the back room. She asks me to follow. Tank top. Red hair. Black-rimmed glasses. I get close. We lock eyes. It’s the kiss we’ve both been fantasizing about since I first walked in eight months ago. The heat under her long skirt, for me. The strength under my jeans, for her. We connect in ecstasy. I lift her skirt and she pulls down h...