She's the only woman I've ever known who liked not only Harlequin romances, where sex is a blurred fusion of stars and floods and explosions and thing..., but also liked hard core sex novels, the kind that inventory specific peculiar and perverse cravings and body parts and then let rip. She kept a stack of them by the bed. I suppose for her it was like reading science fiction or the National Geographic, depictions of other people's strange folkways, novel and interesting, maybe even educational.. My fingers wrapped in your hair, feather light touch teasing the back of your neck as I instinctively pulled myself closer to you. Eventually breaking off and breathing heavily into each other’s ear, your hot breath turning me on but the need for privacy before this can go any further is to great and we turn to go and find your car. Reaching the car you push me up against it the cold metal shocking my exposed lower back as you lean on me our fingers finding each other the response amplified by. More

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