She called it her journal, but it was more a collection of fiction writing and her thoughts, some run-on, some bits and pieces, from whatever was floa...ing through her mind. I'd learned over the years—well, from the get-go really—Emily had a very active imagination. Honestly speaking, a salacious one. It was one of the many things I loved about her. She kept this thing pretty private, though, even if from time to time she'd read me a passage and ask me what I thought.What I usually thought was. "Legs like that deserve a thong! Double the amount you take off around the edges!" She's a woman, she should know..." I shrugged. "Do it."Rachel looked unhappy. "I'll never look like that." You shouldn't, Honey Bun -- it isn't you. You can wear a little more demure bikini if you want -- or if I want -- and you'll be just fine in it. I love you the way you are!" You love me?" Rachel was suddenly all over me!Backed against the wall -- literally -- while she pressed herself against me, I had. More

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