Agatha had her back turned, stacking plates on a high shelf. Hunter was looking out the far window.I raised Kat's chin and kissed her lightly. She tas...ed like chocolate and bourbon. Her eyes darted to the kitchen. Then, she placed a hand on my cheek and kissed me again, deeper this time. I felt the wire-framed bra through her thick sweater. We broke apart and fell into silence.Kat sipped from her hot chocolate and stared into the fire. I watched her.Finally, I had to ask."Who is the boy?" I. And while that's now within reach, it's still a very large step I will not take until true necessity forces it upon me.The second factor affecting me has been the unconditional genuineness of Daphne and Cherie's relationship. It has led me to reevaluate just what limits do exist on relationships between caring, intelligent beings.Last night, while using my increasing rare idle time between my House and megaplex council duties to reconsider what I've long thought I knew about relationships, I. A Vietnam Vet who had zero interest in training people to win little plastic trophies. We trained to fight. We learned how to hit and how to take a hit. The guys were mostly all “Biker Types” who rode Harley’s and enjoyed bar fights. They got arrested and sued a lot. I learned a great deal from them, but nothing about women. So anyway, I didn’t date much. No job, no car and no money. I was s*******n and a towering five foot six inches tall. I had a twenty nine inch waist and leg length to. She didn’t exercise a lot, but enough to keep in shape. Her tan skin gleamed as she was hair free, one of the privileges of having a husband that could afford nice things. So that meant she was bare between the legs so her tight thong rubbed across her aroused lips and felt really good. She pulled her long, wavy black hair into a bun on top of her head so she could lean her head back against the couch. She started to touch her body, her hands caressing herself gently and deliberately. Her hands.