Her breasts every now and again grazed against the coldness of the windowpane, he could see they pebbled swelling harder from its coolness. Her head t...rned to the side ensuring no fogging of the glass, as she slowly started to pump her hips up and down on the rod. She grabbed at the windows for a moment, her face surprised. "Shit" he muttered as his left hand brushed some drops of whiskey off his knee. She squirted; he loved when that happened. It wasn't every time, but by God when it happened,. There are footsteps, nothing else. They look to the ground, occasionally to each other. That cool, damp ground is heady and sweet. Too cool. She lets him put an arm around her to warm her (‘Is this okay?’) and as she nestles against him in their walk, she can feel the night reviving itself. ***** Far out in the shaded part of the gardens, hidden by a magnolia from the house and the possibility of discovery, he turns to her. He is very close, though touching only her hand. ‘May I kiss you. More

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