She needed an orgasm. Desperately. Lanie’s mouth was at her throat, kissing her skin, murmuring: ‘Please, Kate, trust me. Don’t say anything. Do...’t back off. I want to give this to you, sweetie!’ As Lanie heard Kate inhaling sharply, she kind of waited for a verbal protest that didn’t come. When Beckett felt Lanie’s lips again on her neck, she threw her head back on the back of the couch. Another sharp inhale was heard as Kate registered Lanie’s right hand on her leg, slowly stroking her right. A soft wind loosened a frame of curls around her face as her toes found the water. She tried to peer deep into the shrouded landscape, imagining she could make out the horizon and the mountains around her. Perhaps the fog was lifting, or perhaps her memory was filling in the gaps her senses could not perceive. She stood in silence as she did every morning, hearing and seeing nothing more than the day before. Her shoulders sloped inward as she turned back towards home, the fog finally revealing. Still though, I knew how it happened. Everything that happens to me anymore revolves around the fact that I'm hot. She ran her fingers through my hair and wiped my face again. I think I made out a smile on her face. "My shift is over, but I'll stay until you recover. I can't help but feel responsible." After a slight pause, she continued. "That is, of course, if it's ok with you?" Mwuuu."I wonder what kind of a sadistic bastard devised the idea of having a pull-out on-switch for a washer and a. ’ ‘Oh my! So he’s Italian?’ ‘Well…’ ‘Mrs. Mersfield, the orders are ready!’ ‘Oh yes! Uh Tony, why don’t you come over and give the orders to the customers?’ ‘But Mrs. Mersfield, I’m not a waiter. I’m just a cook. Mr. Mersfield says cooks can’t go to the front end of house.’ We just sat there and tried to figure out Tony’s accent. That did not sound Italian. ‘Tony, if the lady of the diner asks you to take the orders to the customers, don’t refuse on my account. Go over there, you big.