My balls ached. I was accustomed to her making the first move or giving the first signals. Holding back, I felt myself tremble. I looked down at my sh...king hands. How long, I asked, would I continue to be so unsure of a woman who so obviously desired me? Or was it just the vitamins and Fiore's workout? Or was this really me, my new sexuality more demanding than ever before? Almost always, sex with Martha was prefaced by moments of relaxed conversation and touching. There was usually some kind. He pushes me to the wall while his lips meet the nape of my neck, kissing across my soft flesh, I shiver and my body has goose bumps. As he gets rougher with his movements, he grabs my hair pushing my face across the wall, his free hand rubbing at my back and arse. He continues across my flesh, his lips dancing as he rips at my skirt. I have no control but feel the wetness in my crotch grow. I am in shock but wanting him to go further, to do as he pleases. He reaches around pushing a scarf into. More

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