She catches my eye, smiling with enough sex to make me get harder still. As her gaze moves I slip away from my conversation and duck out though the ki...chen onto the verandah. There are a few people but they are absorbed in their own conversations and I wander casually observing the people and interactions. Kerrie is in the window still alone for now. I can see her starting to glance around quietly seeking. I grin to myself and move to lean against the window sill from the outside.No one about. At the girls’ school I attended, I hid my enormous brown eyes behind out of date glasses. It seemed I was always biting at my plump lips to make them seem smaller. Then, in my freshman year at university, after having read DH Lawrence, I wanted to know more about the human heart and my tragically human body. I had always felt self conscious about my body, my sexuality, and so that is why I plunged my mind into the world of ideas, art, and literature. I wanted to understand flesh as sculptors. I fancy myself a connoisseur of thrift-store hats: some women's go-to-church hats can pass as pimp gear, whereas something straw and covered with plastic flowers can perfectly articulate my taste for the silly sublime. This rack held nothing too wonderful aside from a porkpie that fit quite well. I left it on my head as I wandered towards the men's clothes, pretending to analyze certain items but mostly watching Sondra as she buzzed intently through the racks a couple aisles over, occasionally. " His right palm on the wall; his lips lean into her left cheek bone, smells across her skin to her ear, "Yes, I feel like that some days..", his voice drops in octaves, "Actually...I am ...not waiting..", his lips caress around the soft skin below her ear, "Do...I have your consent?" They are far from the crowd, unnoticeable. The over hang gave them their own sense of privacy, a dark shade in the remote corner of the club. Alex’s fingers on his left hand combs Claire's blond hair away from her.