At night, I would fondle my breasts and tweak my nipples, often remembering the smile that she thrust in my direction. I caressed my own breasts to th... thought of her hand on mine and I would often mimic the movement with both hands.It took me two days to phone that number. When I did, I hesitated. What if it wasn’t her? What if it was someone else that had left the note? I was about to put the phone down when she answered. An uncertain “hello?” echoed down the phone but no name was provided. I. She disengaged herself and scooted herself up to a pillow, laying on her back as she did so. Like a sacrifice she lay legs open waiting his touch and his gaze, her hair loose over the white pillowcase like a chestnut fountain, her pubic bush directly under that lightbulb, highlighted for her young lover. Her breasts flattened and spread like eggs in a pan, she was perfect. He touched her tenderly, as if she was porcelain, lightly and tentively slithering his amazed hands over her skin in. More

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