Moving my fingers to my breasts, tweaking each firm slippery nipple. Turning away from the shower, I foamed my pubes. The razor inched along my mound....I’d give my man a fresh trim to feast on, hopefully. I dried myself and left both the towel and robe in the bathroom. I felt light goosebumps rise on my skin as I moved from the warmth to the coolness of the bedroom. He was in the room and the glass was on the nightstand. He gazed at me and the bed. In the center of the bed lay the props I. I’m mad because you don’t do anything with it. It’s as if I’ve lost my sight in an accident and then you’ve taken me to the Louvre. I’ve always wanted to go. I’ve always wanted to see the art, to experience it. But you don’t even look at the artwork. You’re too busy telling me about how the building’s engineered, how the roof’s supported, how the layout is designed to allow and encourage a flow of people, how the lighting’s been wired in, and so on...” She pointed at me. “No. You bother me.. More

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