The peaceful face, gorgeous in its sculpture. The sheet tucked over your thighs and along your belly. Though, I have no awareness of feeling touch, the tactile stimulation, that you can understand---yet, I feel your warmth. The capillary pulsations and reverberations of your flesh increasing as I lie with you.Your hands on their own volition push aside the fabric covering you. I see nothing but light in my world and so the bed is illuminated, your nude body glorious to me. Your lips part and you give a sigh. You are needing me. Your thighs are just slightly spread. Your thoughts now are including a mix of one of your business clients, an attraction toward him and another man you had seen somewhere else. You speak legion of desires for both. I can alter my being into either one and this is why you have allowed me to enter your life, the realm of unspoken lustfulness that you would periodically acknowledge in your real world to maybe one friend, periodically to your husband. But you. My eyes were glued to the hunky actor with the six-pack that was explaining to some bimbo blond about how the government worked and neither of them knew shit about a single thing. Even I with my crappy public school education knew they were making all kinds of mistakes that was putting the well-educated host into stitches but went right over the heads of the studio audience. Most of the time you never saw the audience but you could hear them laughing like a bunch of hyenas at the slapstick jokes and clapping when one of the guests made a fool of themselves. I guess those people that went to such things loved to watch other people making fools of themselves because it made them feel so good to think they wouldn't be so dumb.I heard the squad car pull up outside and I figured the happy couple were back from eating up at the Cracker Barrel with the nice fireplace just a roaring in the huge dining room. I always liked the Cracker Barrel restaurant because the food was pretty good and the.
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