Kissing her.I pick her up without releasing her lips and fly to her room. No, really; I can do that. I stop in time to keep from breaking her door in....Once inside, what little clothing we have on goes flying. Her skin feels like a snake, scaled and supple; it tastes like sweat and something - something I don't know. I can't stop running my lips over her. She moans; it has a slight sobbing sound. I look at her face."Ted can't..." her eyes are teary, "The scales. They're sharp." Oh." Ted can't. " The barista answered my unspoken question with a proud gentle tone. Only a devotee of coffee gets misty-eyed at the scent of a good roast.I paid for mine and left a big tip to compensate for those clueless fools who couldn't remember their order. I stepped to the side to get some sugar and that's when I saw the figure behind me more closely. Gold wired glasses, a mannish suit, but that walk was totally feminine. Men don't roll their hips like that.That crisp white shirt might have been a. More

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