He was attracted to her. She felt her body almost bulge with the tension. When they talked, he'd lose that attraction. That would be best. When her st...dy partner had taken her, she'd felt this same bulge in her body, a yearning to fly apart and become something new. When he'd spurted in her belly, the orgasm she'd had had felt like that... like she was flying into pieces that would assemble to make a new woman when they drifted back together. She somehow knew that she could reach the same place. "Much to my pleasure the person connect to the sculpted piece of art stood up and before me was a strawberry blonde beauty staring me straight in the eye. Her hair was the middle of her back, waved, and cascading down off her shoulders like a Celtic goddess. Her breasts though only slightly on the small side at a 'B' cup were equally on display through a low cut V neck shirt that gripped her body. The pressing of her incredibly pointy nipples through her shirt demonstrated her lack of brassiere. Each of the eleven panels in the room showed a different expedition. His eye wandered back to the massive blank panel above the fireplace. This year, his visit to the City of the Gods, his crowning achievement, would be carved on that panel.“Or,” he mused, “like Wilton, I will lose my credibility and be accused of an elaborate hoax. The capstone of my career will be an albatross around my neck and I will sink into oblivion.”The very existence of the papers in front of him should be proof. Her breasts look soft, bouncy and sag slightly like any other married woman. She is seen outside in the apartment with me more than she is seen with her husband. I used to accompany her to the supermarket in our township.I also used to play tennis with her in the evenings. All the boys used to stare at her when she plays tennis. Even I had tough times in confusion about which balls to concentrate on, her boobs or tennis balls or my balls which get full when I see her playing.She used to play.