Or maybe it's the strange, intimate talk we just had. Or maybe it's the sounds I heard coming from my parents' room earlier. Whatever the cause, the f...el of his hand over my arm, my hip, my neck makes me want to moan and beg him to keep going, to push aside the flimsy bathrobe, to pull up the hem of my T-shirt and caress my bare flesh.He probably thinks I'm asleep. He turned the TV down a little, and soon, too soon, he stops touching me. He probably imagines he'll wake me up if he keeps. After a few seconds, we broke the kiss and sat back.“I can barely move,” I said.“We certainly moved last night.”“We did.”She looked at me again and said, “It’s a good morning.”“Yes.”She looked at me closely and spoke more firmly. “It’s the only really good morning I’ve had with you. What happened to you? You’re so much nicer to me. Like I’m human. Like you want me for something more than fucking.”“I did want you before, but you always pissed me off within an hour of coming over.”“Why? What. More

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