A tall, strangely handsome, mediumbuilt man with the smooth, scarred face of a burnvictim stood in the doorway.“I am Richard. Is Don in?”&...8220;No… please come in. I am alone.” His hair was blonde, wavy and brushed straight back,it just touched his collar. He had a long, blackcashmere coat on and a dark turtle neck, he chose tostand looking out the window at the snow fall whichhad just begun. Hey Jude was playing from the oldMagnavox radio in the living room. Don’s. Oh god… This time his oath was silent. Her tongue moved, leaving coolness in its wake as it traced along the edge of his head. He gripped the covers as pleasure raced through him, struggling not to move, not to intervene. He had to let her set the pace, her wondrous explorations of his body, maddening as they were, were the most beautiful tortures he’d endured. She let out a low, hissing exhalation and he groaned again as the heat of her breath spread over his moistened flesh and skimmed over. More

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