Our breathing became heavy. His hands explored my body as mine explored his. I moved my hands over his soft, smooth skin. Feeling his curves, his con...ours, the hardness of his abs as his muscles constrict. I slowly moved my hand around his upper body. Trying desperately to memorize as many details as I could while we continued to lock lips. He was gradually moving his hands lower over my body, occasionally hitting just the right spot to send a wave of shivers coursing through me. I couldn’t. Once he got an idea in his head, he had to build it; it became a compulsion for him. He had plenty of materials to use, and one resource he was eyeing was a power sander, completely unusable for its proper purpose when the rubber pad that the Velcro-lined sand paper would stick to had been torn. Every time he turned it on, he could feel the centrifugal force of the rotations pulling at the tear, dangerously destabilizing it. But its motor still worked and it had an adjustable speed. Plus with a. More

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