The incident and the event are real,but only as long as they happen, for memories, also, are unreal.Very well. Let me explain. Perhaps an example will...help. My breasts arereal when their weight is in my hands--or yours. They have density, then;they are tangible; they are measurable. Unmistakably, they haveexistence. But, after the moment, when they are no longer held, they arejust ideas, nothing more than memories.Eva, my former love, says I am too philosophical: "too philosophicalfor your own. "I've missed this Heather, and I don't just mean the sex." I said."Really? Not just the sex?" She asked."No, I miss that, but I miss us being close too. Before we even started, we'd talk about everything, and now, you keep so much hidden from me." I said.She pushed her crotch against my hand, as I rubbed her most sensitive spot through her shorts and kissed her neck. I began to actually smell her arousal as I moved my hand from her crotch, with a moan of protest from her, to her waist band. I. More

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