Your body trembles at my touch, my fingertips skate over your skin, barely touching, like the breath of a ladybug. Goosebumps form over your flesh, f...llowing in lock-step behind my fingers. The work is slow, every inch of you becoming imprinted in my memory, your ragged breath makes me hungry, your moans urge me forward. But I must wait, this has to be done right, delicately; this moment will always be the moment you recall when you reminisce on what it feels like to be loved. I promise. I. She came from the bath, and by looking at my face, she apologized for the delay. She said, “Let’s eat.” She was serving food on my plate. Meanwhile, I was looking at the water dripping from her hair on her wet back.She sat beside me, holding her plate with food. I was not able to control myself, looking at her on her wet nighty. I was rubbing my cock under the table with one hand and eating food with the other. I somehow managed to finish the food and was talking to her about some lazy. ”“Okay.”She reached for the hem of her shirt. I could see her face getting pink. I did the same thing. Reach for my shirt, I mean. Now that I think about it, maybe I got a little pink, too.“On three,” she said.“Okay.”“One ... two... three!“We both pulled. I almost ripped my ears off trying to get my shirt over my head so I could see.There they were. Her previous flashing of me had been so unexpected I hadn’t actually seen all that much. The hazy image of pink nipples perched on darker areolas. "Hello, Mrs. Po," I greeted her as I approached the table. My gut was in a knot. She had used her own daughter to plot the murder of her husband. "Mr. A-brack-a-vando," She greeted me, butchering the proper pronunciation of my last name in the process. "Your name translates to 'he who embraces the wind'. Wind is one of the five elements. Please, join us." She smiled and pointed to an empty chair. I had no idea what the fuck that was supposed to mean. And I really didn’t give a fuck. I sat.