Her blond hair fell about her as she rose, rippling down her spine like platinum snakes of tangled silk. She padded to the kitchen, yawning wide, tawn... skin bare and beautiful without a thread of clothing to cover her. At the kitchen table Max sat, nude in the summer air, his french blue eyes scanning the newspaper spread before him. Delia’s hand smoothed over his shoulder as she passed, headed for the ancient coffee pot that sang on the stove. She poured them both a cup, hers thick and sweet. It was so dark, but so bright. The soft light from the dim room collected in her cup and played around with each other, twisting in the fluid. It was quite sensual. ‘Do you want to dance?’ asked Dan. Molly took a deep breath, still staring down. Her belly was doing flip-flops, tightening around the little bit of food inside her. It felt like butterflies were taking flight in her body, a sensation that she’d heard of, but had never really experienced. She shook her head, indicating that she. More

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