”“Our eyes filled with lust. Feel our aching, Molly. Feel the trembling or our thighs, the quivering of secret places. Gulps of breaths coming in ...ynch; my exhale becomes the air you inhale. Intoxicating. My hands in your hair, your hand on my face, our knees touching, thighs opening on their own needing what is coming.”Soft little moans escaped my mouth, and I hoped they were too light to be heard. My fingers rubbed and flicked over my clit. I was losing this battle, and another wave of guilt. Usually he was home by six, or seven at the very latest. He never ate dinner without me, but he wasn’t replying to my texts. Thirstily I had glanced at the bubbly, wishing I could start drinking now, but knowing it would be rude to start without him. However there was a more pressing situation at hand. I was losing interest. Fast. After the careful consideration of getting myself ready and into the mood, I was quick becoming tired of waiting for Jake. Again. Then an idea occurred to me. Dipping. More

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