" She moved my fingers in a little circle for a minute, then let go. I kept moving them just like she had, but gently, lightly.She looked up at me, sp...aking between breaths. "No, Gretta, push harder… Oh yeah, that's better."Her hips started to push up every time I pushed down, rocking against my fingers. Her breath came in great whooshes out of her mouth, little moans at the end of each breath. Then, slowly, finally, she got frantic. Her fingers sawed in and out faster and faster, her other. Our mouths meet as if they are made to be together. Our tongues dance. Our hands explore. Your low groan as my hands grab your ass is so incredibly enticing. Every nerve ending is alive. ‘We can’t do this,’ you say, pulling away slightly. You sound as if your head is trying to convince your heart – and not succeeding. ‘I know. But please, don’t wake me up just yet,’ I plead. ‘Let me dream for just 30 seconds – then we’ll stop, okay?’ Your response is to pull me in for another exquisite kiss.. Muscles protested; the desire to quicken the pace resisted. Finally with the cooling down stretches completed Dent became fully aware of his surroundings again. He was again amazed at how quickly the time seemed to pass when he was fully engaged in his exercises. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he was attacked during the T'chi or if he would even be aware of it. He had asked his instructors that very question once receiving little more than a smile and an assurance that the body. “‘Bye!” he called, and heard a response, but it was not loud enough for him to tell what it was. On his journey he wondered in a desultory way what he should do. The atmosphere was uncomfortable: apart from his called farewell and her muttered response, he had not spoken a single word to her that morning.He sighed, wondering if things could ever settle down again, or even if they could survive living in that fashion? He had forgotten his musings over the whisky the night before.Work took his.