I want to touch her. That’s why I have come. In the night, to touch her. To stroke her cheek. To part her hair with my fingers. To let her eyes open.... To see me. To see what He wanted, what He took, what I let Him have. Her, all alone now. Her, in her big empty house. Her without Him. Him without me. I want her to know. To share me. I want her to see me; me, as I am. The me He made me.I blow so gently into her nose, her gently-tilted nose that must have captivated him when he was at Medical. My shop is a 5-minute walk away inthe High Street. You do want to, don't you?" I managed to stammer a yes."I thought so. You've your credit card of course?"So, only a few minutes later we got off the train together. Yes, we werethe same height, in her heels, 5cm probably, she was a bit taller thanme. Her shop was double fronted, one side with a window of delightfullingerie, the other with a very attractive display of dresses andaccessories."I run them as two businesses, but customers regularly. I quickly discovered she was going commando.As my fingers brushed her clitoral piercing, she grinned and said, “It’s your fault, my panties were still soaking from last night. I had to wash them and leave them drying in your shower. If I forget, please keep them as a souvenir of the greatest night in my life.” She kissed me and settled down in my arms, raising her face to bask in the sunlight.We stayed like that until we heard a car pull up in the drive. We walked around the front of the house. Before photographs, and decent maps, it was only through personal observations, and sketch maps, that a commander had information to plan his attack." He sighed. "I think sketching has now been removed from the Sandhurst curriculum. Damn shame, as it really helps in teaching a fellow how to develop an eye for terrain and the lie of the land."He looked at me quizzically as he pointed to his sketch. "How far do you think it is from the line of trees on that ridge to the bridge?" I recalled the.