Hanging from a hook on the back of the door was adrawstring bag. His Gran was an attractive woman in her early fiftiesand Josh loved to see her prepar...ing for work or getting ready for thevery occasional night out. He tried not to make his interest to obviousbut he had seen this bag before and he had seen her place it on thishook once before. He also knew what was in it. It contained the curlersand rollers his Gran used when setting her hair. With shaking hands heunhooked the bag and pulled open. Even if he had, there was nothing that could make what I did okay.I loved Mark. Sounds crazy, but I still did. I loved him like you love an old friend, but it was so mired with years of resentment and of living in such a bizarre world of pretend. We never really had a chance, considering the way we started, because mingled with the desire and love that grew between us was that little twinge of obligation. We were beholden to one another not out of passion, but by necessity. Passion did. You gaped in wonder. I never wore thongs and the sight of it made you drool with lust.I dropped my hands to my knees and slowly ran my nails up my thighs. The dress was pushed upwards, providing you with a good clear look at the lovely surprise. You ran your fingers through your hair and flicked it back over your shoulder. It showed your sheer arousal and kept your hands busy.I looked you directly in the eyes, slapped my velvet-covered puss, and wailed with the sheer horny need for you to take. "Honey, relax. You are going to blow our cover by looking like the world just rained on your parade." Sorry, you're right. I'll work on it." She smiled and that changed everything. For me at least, it was like the world just lit up. I guess I'll just have to admit it to myself—I'm in love. I just hope the feeling is reciprocated, but I'll have to hold off following up on that until later.We had walked another half mile when we were alerted by Genie. It looks like we have found him. Duck into.