Obviously I was doing something to him too. Down the feather slid, down my ribs and stomach, stopping to twirl it in my belly button yet again. With ...one hand, Dave spread my legs further apart by methodically pushing each thigh back as far as the restraints would allow. My mind raced frantically; touch it, touch it, touch it. Then I was speaking, "Touch it, Touch it, Touch it." senselessly murmuring, moaning for him. He laughed softly, almost to himself. Finally he touched the soft feather to. I run my fingertips down my stomach like you would have done. I slide a finger inside myself like you would have.”“Or maybe you wouldn’t have joined me. Maybe I just would have come out wearing a towel ... and when the moment was right ... dropped it and told you to make love to me right there in the living room.”She gasped.“Sometimes I have a toy with me ... and I pretend it’s you. I suck on it ... I slide it between my breasts ... would you like that, honeybear? Would you like fucking my. Pun intended. He had started notice woman’s hands more than anything else, he had to remind himself to stare at their breasts. The smell of moisturizer had started to turn him on. It was sad.He was working for a summer stock theatre company until September and then he was moving to SF. One would think that a theatre company would be ripe with worldly, single, easy actresses. Not this one. They had all either hooked up with actors already or were married or had a boyfriend or were fourteen or. How good it had been to lie back, her head feeling the bumps of the grass against the blanket and up above, beyond Martin's hovering form, the night sky and the stars, and then the feel of her skirt being pulled up, the sound of her own acquiescent sigh as her flimsy silk panties were eased down over her trembling thighs, and she knew what was going to happen. The way her legs had parted--or had he parted them with his own--and then her closed eyes, the naked heat of him against her, and the.