South Indian 3some

” The old man slid a bowl of soup across the table to her. Her hands were tiny, and her arms shook when she pulled the bowl closer to herself. The over-sized coat she wore was still wet from the snow, and small puddles had formed beneath her elbows on the table. “I’ve got plenty.”The memory startled her, and she dropped the piece of bacon she had been holding. The others were deep in conversation about something else now, and she picked up a sausage, holding the greasy roll of meat in between her fingers.Who was that old man? Did he know who she was? She wasn’t able to ponder these questions for long when she heard a loud bang from the front of the house. Everyone at the table stood up and ran, and she couldn’t help but follow out of curiosity.Mike groaned as Zel cleaned away the dry blood on the back of his head. He sat on a table in her yurt, and she was now using tweezers to check his wound. Last night, he had faded in and out of consciousness as the centaurs rushed him to their. In scant minutes we were sitting together on my sofa with me on the middle cushion and her on the end, just jabbering away like old friends.She told me that they were finally all unpacked and settled in, and that she had started her new job that day. She was excited about the new challenges and opportunities at work and said she really was enjoying the prospect of her first winter without ice and snow. Since it was only the beginning of July, I found her ice and snow comments a tad premature, but said nothing. In no time at all, but probably more like an hour and a half, we'd killed the merlot and started on a half bottle of a reisling I'd found corked up in the back of my fridge. I was now sitting on the close end of the middle cushion and Jill had kept her hand on my lower thigh for the last half hour, gently stroking it from time to time as if to punctuate her sentences.Finally, unable to resist any longer, I gathered up my nerve and reached out to bring her closer for a kiss. At.
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