You watch helplessly as his hands reach for you. They are strong, rough hands... a workingman's hands, but strangely graceful in their movements. Slow...y, one button at a time, he unbuttons your robe. You feel on the edge of panic, but the growing white fire in your belly holds you firmly, and quietly, in place.He pushes the robe gently off your shoulders, and it falls silently, forgotten, to the floor.Your knees are turning to water, and the trembling along your spine is moving in waves. Gently. ” As she spoke Amélie drew her hand down Sandrine’s flank under her shift. Sandrine chuckled. Her chuckle turned to a murmur of approval as Amélie’s hand passed across her bottom and lingered for a moment.“Yes, I am,” said Sandrine. “Definitely black.”Amélie kissed her and the two were silent as they prolonged the contact. There was no need for fancy gestures or energetic ones. They were experienced lovers who knew each other’s desires. It was easy for them to raise the temperature little by. More

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