That hunk whose pants you would have died to get into and he in yours asked you to dance…. the two of you melted all over one another…. parting sl...wly after the music ended oblivious to the points of your breasts or the bulge in his crotch. Those feelings of pure sexual desire are some of the best memories of my life. Why not recapture them once-in-a-while. So now, we have wined and dined, listened to the words of the beloved bard or his erstwhile imitators or basked in the sweet or. In the end, I just put on a T-shirt. If it worked this afternoon, it would work tonight. Then I snuck out into the hallway to turn on the fan. The second floor of the house wasn’t air conditioned, and it would help cover the sound of Robby’s steps on the stairs. I curled up and leaned against the headboard of the full bed. My eyes were practically glued to the door. I could almost smell him—his skin, his sweat—and the memory of his mouth on mine and his hands as they undressed me was enough to. More

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