I rinsed the soap from my hair, delighting again in the feel of the hot water rushing over my nakedness. And then I felt it, a poke, a stirring, and a clench and decided that perhaps I needed some attention after all. Yesterday had been full of teasing with no release of the tension due to, well, due to the way life just is sometimes. I wondered how long I’d been in the shower and if I had enough time for this before I ran out of hot water, I must remember to turn the temperature up on the water heater! My palms slid across my breasts and in interest of making sure I didn’t run out of hot water I moved my fingers straight to the black triangle at the V of my legs. I know so many men like a bare pussy but it’s a lot of work, and I’m just not willing. Besides, I like the natural fur. I have been known from time to time to shave my labia, but it’s a bitch when it grows back so I don’t do it very often. My fingers slid between my folds and I actually smiled to myself when it was obvious. Thigh to thigh, gave penetration, strong and arousing. Belly to belly. Belly to thigh. Fertilising seeds in the receptive field. Mouth to thigh, on rigid ideas, wind and wood. The pasture opened to a gorge, north to east. Ear and foot, was indeed her liberation, Kinghorn’s tip really was glistening. He was quite aroused. She sat back in her computer chair now swivelling slightly to either side, her long legs now neatly and elegantly crossed. Her skirt smoothed down, without a trace of where he had been. Her blouse still crisp, but now it appeared, the buds of her breasts had come alive, their trace just showing through faintly in the morning light. Her cheeks slightly flushed her blurry eyes now alive. That underlying excitement she sometimes suppressed, somehow betraying her. The morning light was crisp and bright. Paris had come alive. The long French windows of the apartment let the light flood in. The blueness of the crisp clear sky gave freshness to the day. For Kinghorn this.
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