He stepped back, and turned on his heel and left. I never saw him again.I was thrilled to be sleeping in the bed of this man. He was a literature prof...ssor, and I knew him to be open and comfortable about sleeping with the women students. He had never married and was in his late forties. There were photos of him everywhere and he was very handsome. I, of course, would never meet him, but that was of no consequence to me. I could smell him. I could see his image. I could feel him. And there were. She knew this because she also felt a warmth building inside her. And those embers threatened to reach out of herself. To show themselves to whomever may see. She pushed harder into the tight space between her thighs pushing apart with slender hands against her instinctual tension to keep shut, tightly shut. Tightly shut against a glistening warmth. And her thighs began to quiver. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, blonde hair tossed, sucking in a gasp. Shimmers from the copse of Yellow. More

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