“I do.”Hawas grinned, and hobbled out the door, giving me a small wave in parting.“Who was that?” she asked, placing a pot down on the table.�...�Someone I know. From Gaza.”“And he knows –”“A little.”Yael seemed to want to say more, but let it go.“Soup,” she said instead, raising the lid on a steaming pot. “From my mother. I hope you like sinkers.” She stirred the dumplings at the bottom. “That’s the way she makes them.”“Joshua.”“Sir.”Yael’s father looked at the flowers at the window – a gift from. Her hair is soft and wavy. Her skin is soft and tan. Her shirt also clings to her skin. I can see her nipples outlined through her shirt. I look down her shirt unashamed.She looks up at me with gorgeous blue eyes. We hold each others gaze for a few seconds, before leaning into each other and locking lips. Tongues probing each others mouth, feeling teeth and tongue and mouth alike. It starts out slow, as they do, but blood gets to body parts that fuel desire. Gradually the kissing gets more. More

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