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Pleasure so strong hit her and she felt her knees weaken. Every nibble, every lick, every touch was bringing her closer and closer to the brink of madness. ‘Gabriel, Gabriel,’ she chanted. With all her strength, she pulled herself together and pushed him away. His eyes were alight with lust and desire, but underneath that she could see something more. She felt an ache in her heart — in a place where she had locked up all her pain and hurt. Cradling his face in her small hand, she looked at him, while her thumb caressed his swollen lips. He pulled her closer but with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes. ‘I don’t know where this is going but I know you won’t hurt me,’ she said to him softly. He nodded solemnly. As if sensing her need to be held, he pulled her deeper into his warm embrace. Caitlyn nestled her head into his chest and closing her eyes, she allowed herself to be cherished and wanted if only for a moment. When she heard shouting downstairs and their names being. “Amber, now that the poison oak rash has cleared up, I’m ready to take you to dinner. Would you finally give me that pleasure?” I asked. “Mr. Jameson, I’ve told you that I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to date a customer,” she replied. “I’m not exactly a regular customer,” I protested, “I only come in here for condoms and to see you. Besides, I learned from Facebook that you obviously like older men.” Amber, who is twenty-seven, about five foot three inches and about 110 pounds has long blond hair and blue eyes. I’ve asked her several times if blond is her natural color and she refused to answer. She has been married twice, both times to men over fifty, and she has been divorced for six months. She put her hands on her hips and sighed, “I will admit that I’ve not dated since my divorce, so a dinner date would be okay, as long as you realize it will only be dinner.” “Agreed!” I exclaimed, excited to finally have convinced her to go out with me. The following night I picked.
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