I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom vanity and smile at how hard my nipples are. I run my hands over my smooth skin, stopping just to lightly ...inch the nipples, watching them get even harder under my touch.A small moan escapes my lips and my eyes close, oblivious even to the sound of the running water. The bathroom fills with the smells of the wild cherry bubble bath and I am reminded of the filling tub, which is now close to spilling over. I snap back to reality and turn the faucets. As instructed – it became a habit that didn’t need reminding. One sniff and I knew what you needed and how badly. It didn’t matter where or when. It was your way of signaling. As natural as drinking water. A level of intimacy that only existed between the two of us. And your way of showing your submission of your body, and soul to your lustful lover.There was never any love making in the car. At least not unless on long drives. You knew there wouldn’t be any fondling. Because I was driving. I. More

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