While she writes, my muscular chest synchronizes breathing with the beating of my heart as I whiff the erotic perfume of her hair. It smelled like lik... droplets of rain on a aloe plant in the rainforest and I looked down at her basking in her wonderful breast almost purposfully pushing against my stomach. When she finished, she didn't speak or even bat the eyelashes that settled so well with her eyes, she simply turned around, dropped the marker in her black, leather, Channel purse and walked. I would have to have the doctor tell me all about what I needed to do to overcome it so that I could be all that my husband wanted of me. But that proved to be something of a problem. My husband’s doctor friend was a very straight laced gentleman and despite the fact that he had been examining my body daily for over two months now, he was just unable to discuss the treatment with me. After a time, I convinced him or thought that I had convinced him to at least explain to one of the nurses so. More

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