She was amazed she didn’t notice it earlier. James picked up the candle, the flame encircled in a pool of warm wax. He looked at her and smiled. �...It is a massage candle,” he commented, noticing her questioning glances. Amy felt the warmth of the flame near her breasts. The flames made her breasts look golden in the dancing light. She quivered in anticipation as he dripped some warm massage oil onto her breasts. “Oh fuck!” she cried, her body shook as the warm oil rolled over her sensitive. It was more than enough people for Mom to quit micromanaging the way I arranged stuffed mushrooms on the serving platters and opt out to play hostess with her friends and those who only knew her well enough to hear she was serving free food. One of those people was that man from this morning. ‘Rick, he’s here!’ I said, dragging him from the living room and into the sanctuary of the kitchen. ‘Who? He? What?’ he asked, trying to get his bearings and trying to make sense of my panic. ‘Him,’ I. More

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