Making Love
Money, Sex And Soul
For Deborah, there was no better gauge of her boyfriend’s state of mind than the fashion in which he made love to her. Mercurial to say the least, Jack was a man who kept his feelings to himself. Deborah had long ago given up on her attempts to get him to verbalize his inner turmoil. At times she questioned her own sanity in maintaining this relationship. Surely, she was desirable enough to attract a more open, in touch with his feelings type of guy.
She did not need a therapist to point out the fact that she had picked a man who was oh so familiar. She had known him all her life. She had grown up in the same house as him, was nurtured by him from the moment of her conception. Jack was her father reincarnate.
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Lord Have Mercy
I realize this is the Johnson’s baby daughter, all grown up now. A serious piece of ass.
“I’m Cynthia. You remember me?”, she asks, as she looks directly at me, covering her firm breasts with a very low cut bra.
Yeah, I remembered her. My boy used to have the hots for her when they were in High School together. She was over our house quite often in those days.
“I just got back in from Cornell. What’s the matter, cat’s got your tongue?”
With those words, still towel drying her long blond hair, she sits down next to me on the bed.