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She’s here. Stepping out of the car, I look at her with a grin. She stands there, beautiful as ever, with a dumbstruck face. I can’t help but bounce over to her, wrapping my arms around her. I kiss her deeply, and she does the same. Her taste is still the same, sweet and warm. Oh, how I have missed these lips. When the kiss breaks, she stumbles over her words, but I explain to her. She’s happy, and this makes me happy. We head inside, no words spoken. We don’t need to. We just need each other’s touch. Her hands move up inside my shirt, mine working to undo her bottoms. I feel her mouth bite over my bra, tugging on my already hard nipple. I moan, my fingers working to find her desired spot. The moment I hear that unmistakable moan, I know I've found it. I glide my fingers along her clit, my pointer finger and middle finger riding along it. I can feel how quickly it becomes hard, begging silently for more. Her teeth sink onto my covered nipple as she moans more. I giggle, knowing I. His thirst was insatiable, which was why he had gone out again that night -- to find a drink to quiet the screaming demons and to relieve the parched feeling that had assumed squatter's rights in his mouth.He had spent the night drinking at Murphy's Pub, and cringed at the sound of the "last-call" bell, both from disappointment, and from the tinny resonance which traveled down his spine like fingernails on a chalkboard. Upon returning home, he hoped that the passed time would somehow make her miraculously appear in their bed. Instead, he found the emptiness he was trying to escape.Falling down on the living room floor while removing his shoes, he lay weeping -- drunken tears of self-pity, unable to accept what he had done to cause her to leave. With a giant sob, he allowed the darkness of sleep to blanket him.Threads and remnants of life's reality appeared in his dream and were woven into a mental tapestry, depicting shards of the events that led to her departure: his layoff from the.
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