Her eyes were on my soldier, then they looked at me, they drew me to her as I stepped up again and this time, with open mouths, we kissed, a long, dee..., breathless kiss. I felt myself touching her and wondered which breast was real. I could feel the fabric of her skirt move up her thighs and her bum moved closer to me on the stool. I had my arms around her and pulled her to me. Neither of us said anything. We squeezed each other, her breasts were crushed against me and through the fabrics, I. In the still quiet darkness of the room now, with no screen to light things up, no score or dialog in our ears, I concentrated on this woman's face and neck, the only sounds those of our wet lips, erratic breaths, and the fabric of our clothes as we adjusted on our seat. I ran my fingers through the short hairs around her neck and ears, following with my lips, and, when I got a little more daring, my tongue. I tasted and smelled her skin and hair while caressing her inner thigh with my other. More

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