His fingers were on the zip of my dress and it fell down to my ankles in seconds. It was like my fingers couldn’t work quick enough as I peeled his ...-shirt off. It was chilly in the hall but neither of us seemed to care. I pressed myself close to him and kissed him like my life depended on it, closing my eyes, taking in every sensation, the heat of his skin, the smell of his aftershave, the texture of his lips. I unhooked his flies and slipped my hand inside of his boxer shorts. He was hard. She walks briskly, but he can't help fixing his eyes on her swaying hips. He can hear her moving things about on the shelf. Probably stretching to clean the mirror above the sink. He can't get it out of his mind that if he came in behind her, he might be able to see the tops of her stockings where they attach to what surely must be satin ribbons...how he loves the sensual fold of flesh where the softest part of a woman's thigh is gripped by the metal straps. He is out of the bed now, naked and. More

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