M., I saw “the look.” I wish I could describe it better, but it was the kind of look that a woman gives you when she thinks you are just a ridicu...ous piece of shit or something. Once I saw that, I knew that she was about to get belligerent. I was somehow able to get her to head down the hall to our bedroom. I helped get her undressed and into bed while she started to berate me a little. In no time at all, she passed out cold. I went back out to the living room, but the party was over at. She had to undo the cufflinks so that it could be taken from him, this she did slowly, maintaining the eye contact all the while. When his shirt was draped over the arm of his chair, Jean again ran her hands over his chest, feeling and kneading, her fingers found his nipples and gently pinched them. It was an intense feeling and made him gasp softly. She found the buckle of his belt, still staring intently into his eyes, she deftly flipped the buckle apart, and then manoeuvred the waistband. More

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