She put one hand on the back of his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, not wanting to cry now, not when it was all so good. But she couldn’t hel... it, couldn’t stop the tears that fell even as her mouth spread wide in a smile of fierce and triumphant joy—the way he needed her, the way he made her feel like there was nothing in the world for him but her, the terrible comfort of her body. She remembered the boy, his insatiable hunger for everything. That hunger was still there, but now it was. There was definite movement down there. He put the ream of paper on the photocopier, and stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at me. I licked my lips, then, slowly, carefully, reached up and undid his belt and pulled at the zipper on his trousers. The lightweight fabric was weighed down by the leather belt, and slid down his legs. He wore Y-fronts, normally a passion killer for me, but the eroticism of the situation won out. His bulge was shaping up nicely. I leant forward, my face. More

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