''What!' Said Emily.'You are wearing knickers yeah?' Amy asked her.'Yes, but…''Then it is okay. It is only fabric he is touching.''A very thin piece...of fabric.' Emily corrected. She looked to Richard. 'Are you not going to say anything? I am your wife.''It is just a piece of fabric.' he echoed, glancing a look to Amy who also glanced back.'Hold on, where am I in all this? I am the one who has to do the touching.' John questioned.'Your gay.' Amy told him, as if that was all he needed to. The perfect size for a woman’s hands, you think as you move to cup them, your thumbs brushing over the nipples still hidden beneath silky black material.She gasps, her hands flying to cover yours and you do it again, smiling at the shudder it elicits. You slide your hands round to her back, unclasp her bra and let it fall to the floor. Her skin is not quite olive, not quite mocha. Warm honey, you think. And sun-kissed, of course. You bend your head to kiss the untanned line over her shoulder. More

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