He went off and came back with a pile of clothes, including a large tee shirt, a few pairs of silk shorts, and running pants for her.“I’ll swim in...these,” she said with a smile.“Both Maggie and I will inspect and, I’m sure, approve,” was his answer.He left her then, since she wanted to take a shower. Maggie insisted on staying with her.When she found him later, in his library, with Maggie walking at her side, she stopped in the doorway and modeled for him how she looked.The tee shirt came down. She watched him, his form so tall behind her, brown skin glistening, his tight crew-cut hair with the dash of gray at the temples, his brown, intense eyes watching her as she watched him: Tyrone. She could never stay angry at him for long. His penis slid between her sweat-dampened thighs, and she tightened the muscles there and moaned. His skin felt soft, firm, slick. A feeling of intoxication swirled in her head, heavy, dizzying. Her groin, buzzing with her last orgasm, continued to throb to. More

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