He was nude and smelled of mint, having just showered, this glorious man for whom I’d long ago given up my so-called life in New York and come out t... the flat plains of the Midwest. I touched the tribal tattoo on his chest, looked down at the red earth of the cellar floor, and said quietly, ‘I’ve been keeping the box there,’ pointing to a spot under a tarp. He nodded, went and got the box. Itt had been a total of seven years since our little girl had been born, but I remember that night like it. He following story is created for a very, inspiring, lets say, friend.. It does build up to a very rewarding ending, I just wanted to build up some tension before that, trying to describe a few of the many things that'd be going through my head in this scenario :) I do hope you enjoy it and get at least half as horny as I've gotten writing and thinking about it, over and over again >. More

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