A finger slowly drags a triangle from your left hip up to your navel, to the right hip, then gone. My tongue circles your elbow, then gone. Hand pulls...the strap of your tank off your shoulder, a kiss there. A finger traces the bottom curve or your left breast. Then nothing. You feel my warm breath on your face, on your lips, you lick them ready for the kiss you know will come… closer… almost touching… a finger slides up your inner thigh and the breath is gone… so close. A hand on your left. What had I orchestrated? I was alone, away from family eyes, with a man that I knew had less than honourable intentions. He pulled me closer to him, so I was almost sat in his lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and it was nice to feel the heat of his body against mine. One of his hands roamed across my stomach and over my thighs, covering every inch in a needy exploration. Why aren’t you pulling away? My hand repeated my earlier defence mechanism and went to his chest, but in our. More

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