Nylon moves differently than cotton, and that small spasm of delight wokehim faster than the awareness of what he might be in. His mother'smirror, now...his, and across from the bed she once slept in, gave him asilhouette decidedly feminine in the pail glow of moonlight. His handsran down his sides, filling in more details, adding slightly moredelight.He knew then that he had not dreamed about that women, and wondered howshe had dressed him that way, then why, and finally where she had gone. I move beside her and trace my fingers along her stomach, feeling her softness. She closes her eyes now and I hear her breathing begin to deepen. I slide my hand between her legs and feel how wet she is. I touch the tiny gold lock, so much like mine and feel incredibly close to this woman. There is the smell of fresh air, of the meadow and the pond, and then there is the soft feminine scent of her. I pour a small bit of wine slowly onto her stomach, knowing it will trail down between her legs.. More

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