I lather some orange scented soap, the kind that reminds me of summers in Florida and gently rub it against my shoulders and breasts, briefly grazing ...my nipples. Eyes still closed, I picture your lips kissing them, your tongue flicking against my pink areola. My soapy hands slide down my slick skin, lathering the soap and forming little white bubbles all over my body. As I move to my arms, down to my waist, and stomach wishing you’d kiss me everywhere. I bend down to spread the soap onto my. “How do you feel?” he asked her, his arm moving over her shoulders.“Happy” she said laying her head on his shoulder “and content, just being here with you is nice.”“Hey” she exclaimed when her head touched his shoulder “when did you change?”“While you slept, I had to take care of an errant, nothing you need to worry about just now, tomorrow is soon enough.”She looked at him, considered asking what he wasn’t telling her but decided to trust him.“Okay” she said and sat back again.They both. ’ ‘Can I make a suggestion?’ I asked. ‘Ask Grant if we could have Wick look at the machine. He’s good at problem solving. He may be able to help them. We could take the video camera over there and see what’s really going on with it.’ ‘Great! I’ll call Maureen right away. Are you sure it’s okay with Wick?’ ‘Yeah… pretty sure. I’ll talk to him. Getting him away from the pouch machine would probably be a good idea right now.’ In fact, Wick was happy to be helping a customer. A short while later, I. ’ Emma stood, happily jizz-strewn, while the art student immortalized the moment photographically, snapping away liberally while his wagging, naked penis tried to make up its mind whether to retreat, flaccid, or resume its erect state once more. Over the next hour, Grant paid tribute to Emma’s breasts in a variety of media, at one point scraping his own gelatinous semen from them and mixing with acrylic paints to create a skin colour he then used as the basis for a hasty portrait on canvas..