Kissing her cheek, I moved in to her mouth, pressing my lips to hers with the pressure of a feather. It was electrifying! The sensation - indescribab...e. I wanted it again but nothing came. I ran my hand across her belly to her side and she mimicked my move, brushing her hand across by tummy. She smiled and brushed her hair behind her ears and gazed at me with her small eyes. Asian they were. Just like mine. Our lips connected again gently, then with more force. Her hands drifted up to my. A breeze hit her as the sheets were removed from her sleeping body. His hand ran up the side of her leg, leaving a trail of warm oil. He’d been painting. She could smell it on him, feel it in the skin, hardened even on his earlobes. It was caked on parts of his body, plastered dry and flaky in some areas and like watery mud in others. She felt the warm slippery feel of the wet paint as he slid against her and rubbed his hands along her arms and then shoulders, unwittingly massaging her with. More

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