He offs the flame, moves toward me and squats to pull out the bottom drawer to get our dinner bowls. He accidentally, or purposefully, brushes against...my thigh when he stands. Electric shocks travel up my leg, my muscles pull together at intimate places. I can’t believe a small touch and my insides are tightening up deliciously. I flush as I watch him empty the sauce into the casserole and the pasta into a serving bowl. “All done. Come.” He beckons with dinner in both his hands and proceeds to. Once inside, Miss Sanders made her wait while she went into the small office for a moment. Lisa looked around the locker room and noticed how drab and bleak it was. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other on the cold concrete floor and crossed her arms over her chest to stay warm, underneath them, her nipples were like rocks. Within minutes Miss Sanders had returned, brandishing a stop watch, whistle and clipboard. "I'll time you. I expect that each lap will be. More

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