Soft. Warm. Silkysmooth. Burning, again. Shite.Shyly, he glanced up. Her fingers had stopped their twitching, and she was writing. Bent over a bit ove... the table, head resting in her palmm she was mumbling to herself. Legs crossed, the sock had slid down a tiny bit, showing her white knee.Oh God.Too late to look away. That knee made his eyes wander. Up, up, her stomach, wich wasn't completely flat but had a tiny roll of fat from being bent over, forced him to bite down on his tounge. Perfect.. She had a reason to feel selfish, having survived the first year of celibacy since the third of her husbands ran out on her with yet another friend. In a tough city such as New York, friends were hard to come by, but apparently not to come with. At least that what her first dear heart used to tell her when she would complain to him about needing a boob job to keep up with her friends’ silicon masterpieces. ‘Hey, hey,’ she said to her smooching customers, ‘Mickey and Kim, it’s nine-and-a-half. More

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