It is not seen, But it is there. –Edna St. Vincent Millay He had picked up the envelope in his school mailbox plainly addressed to ‘Mr. Cosetti’... Inside, Frank had found an unfamiliar poem by an early twentieth century writer. There was no accompanying message, but he knew who had sent it to him. He leaned forward and placed both elbows on his desk. The math teacher perused the words carefully, trying to fathom their meaning. Did the sender feel guilty over an almost innocent kiss? Did she. I climb on top, but you quickly roll me over. We continue to swap positions until you finally have me pinned down. We are nose to nose, looking into each other’s eyes. We can feel the tension in the air, and we slowly move towards each other and our lips touch. This touch ignites a passion and, in moments, our mouths are open and tongues are exploring. Our breasts are pushing against each other, driving me wild. My hands caress your smooth sides, moving slowly up and down and then move to your. More

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