THE BREEZE BRUSHES AGAINST MY SKIN

As I sit here naked in front of the blank slate, I feel the breeze of the fan overhead brush against my skin. And it's cyclical. Perhaps the blades are ever so impercetibly tilted differently enough to cause the fan to circulate unevenly. The breeze wafts over me in waves.

My lover comes to me and says "Did you notice I moved the fax?"

O.K., I think to myself.

"Yes, I did."

We had talked about moving it from my office into his office on the third floor for quite sometime now but each time he took the telephone cable to be wired correctly for the four lines coming into the house to have the fax respond to the correct incoming line, some incompetent bastard would get it wrong. So it's finally out of my space and where it will be of more use.

"Do you feel like spreading your legs and having your holes filled? And your nipples squeezed?" he says as he bends over me and kisses me with an open mouth and intent lips. I lean back and take in his kisses and the thought of what it will feel like and decide that I'll write about our last lovemaking session another time. For now, I've got something else to attend to. :-)