“That’s okay,” Reba replied. “I’m sorry about earlier.”She stood up and made her way over to the coffee pot. Damn, that cute little ass wa... calling out to be touched.“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she nonchalantly asked. I set my toolbox down and slipped up behind her, as she poured sink water into the coffee pot. I reached around her svelte body, pressing up against her. I placed my hands on to hers. I leaned in close to her ear as I pressed against her and whispered,“I’d love to share some. It was cold and empty - a symptom of the crisp late autumn air, the kind of weather that turns your breath to steam and your extremities into fumbling appendages that lack grace. The top deck of the bus was barren bar myself and several discarded newspapers, the windows thick with condensation from the body heat of departed commuters, drops of water running rivulets down the glass-like beads of sweat between your lover's shoulders.I thought about how your fresh sweat would taste. That first. More

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