He’d promised to give up smoking—for her. Somehow what he did in the next few seconds was all important to her. Was it already over? She’d thought that he was the one. She’d never thought that before. She’d never had a relationship that went this far. She’d never been permitted to—had been warned that if she committed that deeply to anyone, she’d be giving up the life she had. She didn’t know what it meant for the passion to level off—whether what they were drifting into was worth the change it would bring for her. It wasn’t quite gone, of course. He’d taken good care of her. He’d stroked her breasts with his hands while he’d licked down her belly and into her folds, working his tongue as she moaned and was overcome with waves and waves of passion. Until he was hovering over her, with her panting body locked between his elbows and knees, and slowly entering her as she rolled her hips up to receive him, to take as much of him inside her as she could. He’d done everything he’d always. “Well Myam, do you know why I brought you in here?” I asked her.“I don’t know mister,” she responded. After a few seconds she added, “Because I wee weed on your grass?” she asked somewhat confused.“Well sort of, but mostly because after you wee wee’d, you didn’t wipe yourself,” I told her.“I know, but when I’m out, I sometimes forget to take tissues”.“You know, if you don’t wipe after your urinate, you can get a bad infection between your legs that could stay with you the rest of your life?”“I know, mummy tells me that too, but sometimes I just can’t wait.”“I have some big tissues up there,” nodding to a shelf. “So that you can wipe. That might help you,” I said to her. “Do you want me to?”“Okay mister, I guess it might help me.”I stepped over to the shelf and reached up for the industrial tissues. I grabbed five or six sheets of tissue off the roll and went back to where the girl was seated.“Here you go,” I said to her as I reached out with my right hand to give her the tissue.”She.
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