The curve of her neck became the focus of his lips, a brush, a bite, a taste and all the while his hand, free to explore, grew bolder. The curve of he... breast, the hollow of her hip and the soft, yeilding flesh of her buttock, sometimes barely a brush, the merest of touches, sometimes a pulling, almost frantic grab that skirted the borders of pain and pleasure in her already turbulent mind. She did not sit motionless, passive. Her head responded to the pressure of his mouth, her tongue darting. He could describe the shade tree out front and the smell of the place so well that I knew he had been there too. It made the old wound in my shoulder ache.Mr. Forest had been married, but his wife and two young children died in a smallpox epidemic while he was in the army. He was eager to be of service, happy to be asked, and said that Arnold's and Simcoe's men had already visited his farm several times, leaving him without any riding or plow horses and burning his tobacco barn."I've still got. More

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