She sighs, relaxing against me, swaying her hips in time with mine. I draw our joined hands towards her heart, resting them over her breast. Softly, l...ngeringly, I glide our hands in a circle over the soft swell, making the circles smaller and smaller until we are only teasing the pert nipple poking through her top. A soft moan slips from her lips. I know how sensitive her nipples are, how much she loves to have them touched and played with. My hand covering her stomach slides low, settling. He had been too far down it too many times not to. He limped through his life like a man with one leg gone. The smallest things were so much effort; it was hard to care about anything. What was the point? It was a struggle to care enough to brush his teeth. He once described losing Carol, to one of his therapists, as being very much like losing an arm or a leg; you adjust, you live with it, you learn to get along--but you never, ever forget for a single moment what you have lost. He finally. More

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