He cupped her breast with his hand and twisted the nipple between his finger and thumb and she moaned softly. His erection stiffened and he pressed against the small of her back. He lifted her leg and draped it over his thigh allowing him to slip in between her folds that were moist and beckoned his touch. He slid in between the moist folds with ease as if it were made for him and he took her deeper needing to feel the depth of her, the soul of her femininity, wanting to know her as if it were the first time for both. Sliding in and out, the desire she had for him evident and without a word spoken between them he rolled her to her back to watch her face as he pushed inside of her. Her back arched as he penetrated over and over again and again, diving into her pool of no return. She raked her nails over his back, her legs raised above his hips and locked at the ankles. Closer and closer, heat rose, desires burned like a branding iron searing through doubts, and denial to culminate in. “I ... um ... got a stain on it today.”“Oh, well.” Paul rubbed Joyce’s arm. “No problem. This shirt looks just amazing on you anyway.” He winked at Sam.“Nice one, Dad,” Sam said.“Do you think we should invite some friends over for the dinner with Mallory?” Joyce poured herself some more wine. “You know, to ease the social pressure a little.”“Good idea. Invite the Singhs. I haven’t seen Raj in a little while.” Paul went back to work on his sprouts, happily munching away.“Okay.” Joyce’s face blanched. Those weren’t the friends she’d had in mind. They would add all sorts of perverse complications to an already stressful evening. But Joyce didn’t know how to rescind the idea. She gulped some more wine.“Great.” Paul stopped chewing and looked at Joyce. “And I didn’t really want to say anything, but I’ve noticed things around the house have been a little more messy than usual. Busy week?”Joyce coughed and looked away from Paul. “Um, yes, dear. Busy.”“No problem.” Paul smiled, blissfully.
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