He ran a hand through her soft brown curls, reminding himself of their familiar feeling. Her brown eyes seemed much darker, staring back at him with a...yearning look. Delilah quickly pressed her mouth against his, stinging from the lost contact. The pressure of her mouth on his increased as she dragged her nails up his back. His hands cupped round her cheeks pulling her harder into him. He couldn't get close enough. Delilah ran her fingers through his dark hair, tugging it as he pried open her. I don't think she wore any clothes until she was ten or something," her daughter said, then with a laugh added, "I don't think she's ever got used to them." Your mom?" I asked but I could remember the odd time I'd heard dad complain to my mother about that hussy who lived next door. About how he'd seen her lying topless in the backyard tanning or how she'd committed some other horrid sin."Uh huh. Gawd, when Will and I were young, you know, like ten or eleven or twelve, it was pretty. More

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