‘Oh, yeah sure,’ She says, pushing the door open. He shrugs out of his coat, toeing his snow-caked boots off. He reaches up and pulls the hat off his head, spikes of brown hair sprout out from his head. She laughs at the sight he makes. She leads him to the sofa and heads to the kitchen, fixing each of them a cup of coffee. Handing him a cup, she sits at the other end of the sofa, facing him. ‘After reading this letter, I did some soul searching. I knew that some thing was missing I just didn’t know what. Every night, when I went to sleep, your face was in my head. Every morning, there it was again. I didn’t know that you meant so much to me, until this letter,’ he pauses, sipping the coffee. ‘It hit me like a tons of bricks. I should have known all along but I guess I was too blind, or scared, to see it. Gen, I carry your smile in my heart, your laugh in my soul. Please, please say you forgive me for being such an idiot.’ Tears were streaming down her face and she made no move to. Already night is pressing closer, teasing her nerve endings. Darkness closing in around her offers a seductive solitude, the chance to play. She flicks on the bedside lamp and plonks back onto the bed, smoothing her supple body against the satin sheets, curling a cushion towards herself, cat-like. After a minute of squirming she replaces the material between her legs with a finger. Sighs, running a finger about her intimate curls. Her body's response is a silent plea. She can hear her breathe catching but resists the urge to delve into her own warmth. She aspires to keep the fire kindled, without a burst of flame, yet. She rubs her lips, wandering a finger over the fleshy planes. Reward is a glorious rush of desire, trickling through her limbs. It is building into a welcome wetness pooling just below her fingers, just outside her reach, luxuriant torment. One knowing hand seeks her breast, fondles the nipple and knows the quick joy of a pinch. She squirms, fondling a handful of.
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