“So what are you making?” I asked her. She blinked up at me for a moment then stepped back from our embrace and walked to the stove. “Well I wa... making an omelet before you scared me into next week.” She said as she resumed poking at her omelet with a spatula. I sat at the counter after pouring myself a cup of coffee. I know where all her cups are and everything else in her house of course. I’ve been here a million times after all. I sipped my coffee and she finished her omelet and sat across. “No you don’t” she said “rub me!” She grabbed my hand again.I cautiously rubbed her wiry bush. She must have been getting excited and the musky smell was getting stronger. Then it got a little sloppy with moisture. Now I was becoming fascinated. I thought she had wet herself.She then put both her hands on herself and pulled what I later found out were her lips apart. “Stick your finger in” she said.I tentatively did that. “Further! Further!” she gasped.That was really slippery. It felt. More

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