I stood there in a daze, imagining an apology. How she could have turned to look at me, her perfect eye brows arched upwards in surprise, her pouting ...ull lips slowly letting out an excited “I’m sorry.” All of that just before her hand landed on my arm. I imagined the way I would study her body in those few seconds. How I would notice the bounce of her breasts as she turned around. I wanted her hands on me. I wanted to feel her. All of this. Up close. But for that moment, I would settled for. Eleanor didn't want to call it 'having sex', so we used 'explored' instead. Seemed to give it a better flair if you ask me. Made it seem important to both of us, and in a way it did. 'Exploring' with Eleanor was always a thrill, and we never got tired of each other. It was only in the two years before her death that our 'exploring' stopped completely. She wasn't able to do many things and she tired very easily those days. Towards the end she couldn't even get out of bed and it was up to me to. More

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