Something also was worrying her. No matter how much she didn’t want to admit it she had liked it. As crazy as it sounded she had liked when he had f...cked her. When he had taken advantage of her, and some might even say it had been her fantasy. But that was just crazy talking. She had to get her thoughts straight, and get him out of her head.“Here’s your check miss.” The waiter returned pulling her from her deep thoughts.“Thanks.” She mumbled shrinking back when his hands got a little close. Intimate and safe, like a pillow-fort. The armrest creates a border between us. It seems like a formidable thing to me – a demilitarized zone – but you toy with it; attacking across, and expertly retreating. Making a game of violating my airspace. One hand loosely holding your drink, the other camped on the armrest when it isn’t making forays into my space, to tug at my shirt, or lightly brush the back of my hand. Your every touch a bomb dropping.Your eyes sparkle as you set me up to give you. More

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