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When I woke he was gone and the red, silk sheets felt so nice, so smooth all over my skin. I started running my hands over my breasts, just like you did last night, teasing and tugging at my nipples, pinching them a little now and again. My other hand started on my stomach and ever so slowly made its way down, first along my hips, then inside my thigh and finally to my lips, tracing the finger lazily up and down, brushing the clit, sending tiny little shivers up and down my spine.Eyes closed. Back arched. Fingers slipping inside, slowly at first, then faster. Just one. Then two. Faster and faster. Squirming and moaning. Touching. Breathing harder and harder, fingers moving faster now. So close, just a little more. . . ."WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING??"His voice was both shocked and angry and I blushed deeply as he tore the sheets away, leaving me naked and squirming on the bed, legs splayed wide, fingers still inside me. Caught and exposed."What did I tell you about that?". "Sven..." she said, "He can't bear me touching him like that; in fact, we sleep in separate beds now." And then, in a rare moment of complete candour, she added, "That side of our marriage died a long time ago; he's more interested in going out with the lads and drinking these days."Now Pat is no oil painting to be sure, but she still has her looks, and those hands are so talented. I told her so, and that her other half must be mad to ignore her like that. She just shook her head sadly, so I dropped the subject.Some time ago I had been introduced to Shiatsu massage in the Far East; of course, we discussed it. When I told her that they often preferred their customers naked, she laughed. She told me she had one gentleman who, like me, had been coming to her for a long time. Instead of leaving his shorts on, he took them off and so was naked. I asked if she felt awkward or threatened by this. She laughed. "Good heavens, no! For a start, he's not in the slightest interested in women;.
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