*Polly*
Dawn comes, and with it a conviction on my part: I will never walk again. In fact, a brief experiment convinces me it might be best not to move my legs at all.
After the second time we made love, I was so tender and swollen that Fennec poured cool water into the basin on my dressing table and gently sponged me, which felt so good that I started to giggle.
At some point we have supper, but then Fennec makes good on his promise to kiss me down there, and before I know it, I am begging him and begging him, pulling at him with all my strength.
When he gives in, my whole body sings.
So the sun is up and still we are lying about, unable to get over the wonderful strangeness of having another body in the bed. A plaything. A playmate.
“I love your knees,” Fennec says, planting a kiss
