The ceiling fans were turning in a slow clockwise rotation, barely stirring the air as they whispered their swoosh, swoosh, swoosh sound in each room....Jean was sweltering so she rolled over and pushed the sheet down to her waist, baring her breasts to the darkened room. It had started raining around five that morning and as Jean rolled over onto her side she heard the now familiar sounds of her 23 year old daughter and her 18 year old boyfriend making love in the next room. The creaking of. A sixth sense maybe telling me that you had no intention of stopping. Your hands now swaying in a different fashion, no signs of backing down from me or moving away, your finger teasing my pants button before finally opening it and unraveling my zipper. I watch with such desirable interest as your hand slowing disappears into my jeans. You lean up to let me feel your hot almost burning breath against my neck... A tongue treks along my throat skipping joyfully up the path to my ear where I feel. More

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