.. go to movies, or just stay home and watch the late show... and best of all she would once more know the wonderful feeling of being wanted... of being desired by her husband. Was that asking too much?She gave herself one last inspection, approved of what she saw, and flicked out the bathroom light. She entered the small cabin bedroom on tiptoe, almost holding her breath. Jamie lay in bed, so still that at first, Susan thought her husband was asleep. But she could see that his eyes were open and he was staring straight up at the ceiling. A breath of fear flitted through her. She didn't know why she was so afraid of him at times. There was something very cold about the way he looked and acted that at times reminded her of Nazi's in the movies. As a little girl she had shivered in delight at their pale Germanic features. Perhaps, she thought, that was what had first attracted her to Jamie... his straight blonde hair... his deep strong voice and definite ideas."God... how I still love. He had a momentary pang of jealousy, but it left quickly, and he felt his penis beginning to swell slightly. Isolde looked at him and said, “Looks like you’re thinking with the wrong head again, Dear,” and then smiled, so he would know she was being humorous. “Um. I s’pose so,” he replied, and went on, “Sometimes things aren’t exactly what you expect.” He suddenly felt awkward, as if he was intruding, and he stopped halfway between the door and the bed. He had unconciously placed the pillow in front of himself, and he stood there, hugging it close with both arms around it. Isolde put her left hand out, and patted the bed beside her hip. “Come sit next to me, Honey,” she said quietly. And then, “Are you okay? I want you to be happy, too.”George placed his pillow upright, against the headboard, and climbed into the bed beside Isolde. He pulled the sheet up to his waist, and turned towards her. She turned toward him, and reaching her right arm around his neck, kissed him softly. “I love.
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