Visions of his wife and another man, this, this Englishman coupling together was filling his conscience to bursting. He washed his hands, then found t...e courage to lift his gaze into the reflection above the sink. 'Jesus, what in the Hell is wrong with you, boy? She's your wife, the mother of your son.' He'd admonished himself before like this. This was not the first time. He dropped his eyes to the running water, then cupped his hands. The cold water clearing his mind, then the visions. More deeply than I’d kissed in nearly ten years. I dug my fingertips into his strong shoulders, massaging his tongue with mine. The taste of coffee lingered on my lips. The feeling of his firm hands on my ass made me breathe in, the perfection of the moment was intoxicating. As he kissed my neck, his slight beard brushed against the tender skin on my neck. He slipped his hands up my back over the delicate fabric of my satin lilac blouse. He leaned back to look at me, brushing my curls off my. More

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