One shoulder strap had slipped andthe black brassiere strap was poking out. I pulled the dress back intoposition and started to laugh."I feel shitty, ...ery shitty, it's a pity how shitty I feel, and sogritty I wish they had not turned down my appeal."And with West Side Story in my head I turned and stared at myself,laughing and crying, only interrupted by the ringing of my phone in thekitchen. I wandered into the kitchen wondering what it would be thistime. I could count the number of calls I. Patiently, I wait a few seconds — listening to her struggle to hide her quickening breathes. She keeps pretending to slumber so I do the same. While I feign sleep, I let my fingers discover her body. Lightly resting my fingertips on her side. I feel her tremble lightly as I trail them along her side. Running them along her waist, down her hip then tracing her thigh. The shaking continues as I ran them along the curve of her waist. My return trip takes my fingertips along the soft insides of her. More

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