Her Arms, His Sanctuary

Few minutes ago she was throwing herself at a man, “such a wanton behavior!” She grimaced. She hardly knew him enough to go all the way. She had always been termed old school based on her traditional values. Courtship for her was of paramount importance. She was grateful to the gentleman that Kay was. His abrupt change saved her from herself. She did not know whether to cry or laugh but in the end she sighed in contentment, this was way bigger than she could fathom. The best way was to give in and trust fate. Although she could not shake off the feeling that there was a shroud of secrecy where he was concerned, that was a topic for another day, the bridge would be crossed if they did get there. With that thought in her mind she got home. The first thing that came to her mind was taking a shower. She felt uncomfortable with the wetness from her arousal. She headed straight to the bathroom. *** In the meantime, back at the farmhouse Kay slumped on to the nearest couch. He sat quietly for a while, staring into space. What kind of spell did she use on him? He was a homme fatale; seductive, dangerous and a player devoid of feelings. She deserved better. Was he willing to change his ways for her, the only life that he knew? The euphoric feeling he sought after smoking was not happening this time around. Instead he was hard as a rock, his reaction was causing him discomfort. He had to quench his desire. He thought of going back to his house in the city for a rendezvous.