Maybe he was too tired to think it through. Maybe he just didn’t want me to stop touching him anymore than I wanted to stop touching him. So I sat o... his hips. God it made me ache! I unbuttoned his shirt off and massaged the front of him. I worked my hands into his unruly hair. I massaged his temples. I touched every part of him I could. I ran my hands down his arms, massaging his biceps, his forearms, and his hands, making him sigh. I massaged his chest – little hair, sensitive nipples, good. “A joke ... a joke child ... uh woman!“ he corrected himself as he saw her take in a breath to yell at him.She would never know exactly why she asked the question, or where it even came from. But her mouth blurted, “If I allowed it ... would you really wash my whole body?”She would also never forget his instantaneous response. “Ahhhhh yes! I would be such a happy man. You look so much like your mother that sometimes my heart is ready to burst. I have such wonderful memories of her.”His meaning. More

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