Two beers were opened; he led her into his bedroom. They kissed. They drank. They touched. They drank some more.His hand was under her dress, in her p...nties. Now he touched the areas he had been carefully avoiding, feeding the fire of her desire. She wanted release. It was easy to remove her dress. Her bra. Her panties. She helped, desperate to fulfil the need for pleasure within.He removed his own clothes. Kissed her. Kissed her neck. Kissed her breasts. Bit them, sucked on them.She made no. His hand trembling slightly, he shook out the match and sucked a deep pull of smoke down into his lungs. The dead match fell into the ash tray with a tiny tinkle. He exhaled with a sigh, turning to look at Faith.A sleeping angel. That's what she reminded him of. Her appearance of this morning was no different than on any other morning. The features of her lovely face were calm and serene. A radiant innocence seemed to emanate from her. Could it have been a dream? Grotesque mental images of his. More

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