My hand pressed palm down into your seat cushion and slowly, carefully slid under your thigh. I wanted to feel the weight of you on my hand; a sensual...and perceptible substitution of your entire weight on top of me in a passionate embrace.Your left hand lay curled in your lap, fidgeting with the fabric of your skirt, but the unconscious representation of hands clawing at the bedsheets was clear. My left hand slid down towards the back of your knee, then out, up and around your thigh, tracing. She felt so lucky to be allowed in and so fortunate to leave the past behind her.The thoughts that she was having were her first digression back to those days of lust and sexual abandonment, all because of the woman in the audience and Berni’s sexual scent that still persisted in her nostrils.Melissa wondered at Berni’s orientation; trying her best to think back to all the discussions, meals out and practice sessions. Slowly, she started to piece it all together.The two of them found themselves. More

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