You were kneeling over me…. staring at me…. wanting me… and tired as I was…. I wanted you too. I reached up and slid my hands gently through ...he back of your hair…. pulling you slowly towards me. I began a slow tracing of your lips with my tongue… feeling your soft hair in my hands… tasting your mouth…. swallowing your soft moans as my tongue probed it’s way inside your mouth again. My hands left your hair and, still kissing, they moved down your back… pulling at your shirt…. lifting it up. Jesus Christ, was he trying to get me killed? I had a sudden mental picture of those movies where armies of cops surround one poor guy all with their guns pointed. In the movies I remembered mostly the guy got shot full of a very large number of holes.I looked at the picture to reassure myself. It looked even less like me in slightly grainy print than it had on my cell display. Nobody'd recognize me from that.Even so, it didn't help my appetite. I'd been hungry when I came in, but I wound up. More

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