Mmmeeiiioooowww....mmmeeiiioooowww... mmmeeiiioooowww... I felt the sharp stiletto heel on my ass,menacing me as I was verbally taunted. The taste was...a mildly salty glop, likemucus when you blow your nose and some of it gets in your mouth. The texturewas similar- a smooth, solid goo swimming in an oily, slick fluid. The smellwas like rotting salmon, besides the soggy perspiration. A cloying milky tastemust have been the breast milk Inga squeezed into the panties before stuffingthem in my. Bad enough you're... OK, At least let me finish this.)Men!What's my favorite position you say? Honestly now. Why ask? Him screwing me. Period. You know, his penis inside me. Use your imagination. As long as the parts connect, where the rest of the body is, is meaningless.(Hands off Mark! Ummm... Uhhhh... OK, you've made your point...)Well, sometimes he uses his hands too. Where the hands are can be important. Sometimes. Once-in-a-while.(Yes, now damnit. Apologize for interrupting me! I'm. You would suggest that chastity implies truer love? To hell with vaunting this notion of purity—this notion of dying from afar because one has forbidden oneself to make a move, to touch one’s beloved. I refer you to John Donne: ‘Loves mysteries in soules doe grow, / But yet the body is his booke.’ Seduction is not entirely a conscious act, though the man be the mover, he is moved himself. What it means is intent waiting. Listening. Not hesitating to respond. She is waiting just inside the door,. He wouldn’t have to coax and beg to see her with the lights on. He already had and it was ‘just skin.’ He threw on a pair of cargo pants and a tee shirt and blew out the candles. He opened the door and followed the soft glow that was coming from the kitchen. Katie was standing there sipping a glass of wine fumbling with the small radio. Static poured out of the speakers as Katie slowly turned the tuner dial. She wasn’t wearing a bra and he could see her nipples through the stretchy fabric.