My hand lands on her stomach and then moves toward her breasts. As my hand settles over her right breast she pushes it away. Not willing to give up so...easily, I move my hand back again and this time she doesn’t push it away. I tease her nipple with the end of my fingers. It hardens in response, creating a visible lump through her jumper. My other hand moves down to the hem of her skirt. As I try to slide my hand under her skirt her thighs clamp together and her hand pushes me away. Breaking. Emily had work to do before Monday’s trials and tribulations and she needed to get it done. I went home and did some perfunctory housework before taking a glass of wine into the garden and sitting in the warm sun, dress hitched up over my legs and contemplating the events of the night and early morning. I remembered myself brazenly dropping my dress, taking off my knickers for her. I re-felt the thrill I had taken in dressing for her before we’d left or the party. My hand was hers when I. More

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