Her name was Cindy, and she was his neighbor's wife---the woman next door in the kind of suburbia that din't make headlines. No cheap scandals here---no wife-swapping, no key games. These were real people, nice people like Cindy and Carl who fought with the desperation of the damned to keep from wanting each other.
Had a perfect opportunity not presented itself, perhaps nothing would have happened. But suddenly it was the right time, the right place, and there was no room left for pretense. In tat moment all innocence drained out of their lives. Two real people, two nice people, became creatures of passion---and guilt.