I’m not touching you until I know what’s wrong. You have to talk to me.” The thoughts in my head and the feelings in my heart are colliding. M...re sternly and much louder you say “Michelle! What’s wrong?” You’ve rolled off the bed and are standing at the edge. Your hands are out in front of you with your palms up as if to ask a question. I can’t respond. I’m frozen. It’s just pure and raw emotion inside me. Opening my mouth will only set off the stream of tears that I’m trying to fight back. . " She pressed herself against the growing lump in my trousers and wriggled. I broke away and shook my head, smiling. "Unless you want to be bent over the table right now..." That would be bad, how?" She took a look and a stir at the bubbling pan on the stove and reduced the heat. Deliberately, she slowly began to unbutton her blouse. She had on no bra, and slipped the blouse off her arms. Went to the table, bent over it and flipped her short skirt up. No panties, either, and her vulva was. She was really embarrassed and poured another glass of wine. She told me we cant do this and she walked off to the bedroom sipping her glass. I was too hot to stop. I know I should have left but her wetness was still fresh on my fingers. I walked into the bedroom and she turned to me looking nervous. She finished her wine and I told her I wanted her again. She put the glass on the floor and was about to tell me to go when i rushed up and started kissing her again. She tried to push me back for. My section was strangely quiet, as we cleaned off the accumulated muck of two days at the checkpoint in the showers. Usually there would be horseplay and singing; Chaz Bowyer had a fine tenor voice, which he liked to show off in the acoustically enhancing shower room, but after what we had seen earlier this morning there was silence. Back in our room, as the lads got themselves ready for the Christmas Day dinner, which we had thought we would miss as we had been due to stay at the checkpoint.