He had clean shirts hanging crookedly on hangers; but they were wrinkled, as if someone hadn't taken them out of the dryer in time to hang them up, be...ore the wrinkles set in. She realized that he must have washed and dried them, sometime in the past.The only room that looked halfway clean, was the kitchen, although the floor could have used cleaning. Every night, Irving cleared the table and washed the dishes, feeling like it was his contribution to the housework. He was one of those rare. I snaked one hand down my body, grazing my stomach along the way, bringing chills to every possible inch of skin as I allowed my wetness to increase without aid. I was hot; unable to get enough of myself as my arousal surged throughout my body and the pressure in my clit swelled. My hand worked my hard nipples, pinching and rubbing. I extended my fingers over my collar bones, scratching my nails over the taut skin, bringing the blood to the surface, just as I do on his back. Shaky, shallow. More

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