’ Chapter 7 The light was out. Flickering tea candles lined the white bath tub. A glass of red wine stood at the ready in the corner next to the soa.... A soft piano concert played in the living room stereo. The foam was stirred up to a nine inches towering, solid mass of tiny bubbles. Their popping was the almost imperceptible sound that was only perceptible because of the deep silence. A baritone opera singer came on with something dramatic about life and death resolved in a plush, velvet. I didn't lift my eyes from the papers and continued with my right hand to write or at least pretend to write, I winked to see how he reacted and he was a little sweaty on my forehead and mesmerized by my feet. He stared under my desk and, looking as if asking, asked me to move my legs to see more under my skirt.I sat down next to my feet again and with my left hand I caressed myself lightly, I also started to get aroused and I felt like I started to get wet between my lips, if I continued the. More

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