Instead I tied her hands behind her back as she laid there on her stomach. I sat down on the edge of the bed and rolled her onto her side. I brushed the hair away from her face and ran my hand down the length of her slowing a little at the curve of her hip. I sat there touching her, looking at her, thinking about the fact that she was now my “girlfriend”. Her soft skin smelled so good. She watched me getting hard as my fingers traced over her body. I stood up and pulled her along side of the edge of the bed. I grabbed her by her hair and eased my cock into her mouth as I reached down with my other hand between her thighs. She lowered and raised her hips from the bed in sync with me fucking her mouth. I could feel her soft folds of skin getting wet against my fingertips as I pressed harder against her warm pussy. I pushed deep into her mouth and held it there as I pushed my fingers inside her pussy. I spread my fingers apart a little and curved them slightly as I drew them back out so. Done with her clothes, she heads down to the kitchen to start preparing supper. Jeffery, she knows out of mundane habit, will be mighty disappointed with her if he returns home with nothing waiting for him. She washes the vegetables and carrots in the sink before taking them to the counter and starts cutting them up. A small stereo deck sits on the kitchen table, and the enchanting voice of Enya floats out of the speakers. She is deep in the middle of her cutting when something makes her to suddenly stop. And then she reflects. * * * * ‘I always wanted to become a dancer,’ she says with her mouth partly full of chocolate ice cream, staring across from the protective railing out at the massive boats that lined the docking quay at the far corner of the bay, too nervous to stare into Quincy’s eyes for fear of what she might see or for whatever sense of perception – whether good or bad – she might get from them. But whatever could she be so afraid of: it’s another lovely Thursday.
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