The alluring aroma of the cooking ham guiding her way to the kitchen. ‘I thought I told you to stay off that ankle…’ he barked! ‘Really it doesn’t hurt at all…’ she replied. ‘You know you make a rotten liar….’ he chuckled. ‘Well…as long as you’re here and so stubborn you may as well make yourself useful…’ he remarked snidely, ‘can you get me the wine glasses there in the cupboard right over your head?’ She reached up for the wine glasses when she felt his hot breath on her neck. His arm’s encircling her waist. His lip’s grazing the flesh of the nape of her neck. She could feel the length of his burgeoning, erection against the crease of her buttocks. Smell the manly, musk of him. ‘Got them…’ she choked. Turning around she stared into his aquamarine blue eyes. Taking the wine glasses from her hands, he placed them down on the counter. His eye’s gazing deeply into the liquid depths of her jade green eyes. His lip’s, inches away from her pouting, lip’s. Bringing his lip’s closer he. I glanced around again to satisfy myself that no-one was around, and then headed back to the bus.On the ride to Sarah’s place, nothing seemed abnormal, though I affected the usual public transit mode: eyes downcast, pretending that the other people don’t exist. I jumped off at the closest stop and walked the block to her building. Though I had been there many times and the doormen knew me, they always went through the protocol of calling her to get permission to let me in. I suppose it is good security practice in a dense high-rise, but it is annoying to stand there like a goon in the lobby while the doorman calls upstairs. I reached the desk and gave my name and Sarah’s name. As the doorman reached for the phone, I jokingly asked, “Won’t you just open the door for me this time?” A brief, confused look flickered across his face, and then he answered, “Sure thing, Mr. Adams,” as he toggled the switch under the desk. I almost stumbled through the door as it swung open I was so.
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