Tsking to herself she tucked her hair into a shower bonnet, stepped out and I heard the rush of a shower, then she was back, dressing gown on, cap gone, like nothing had happened since I arrived at her door. XXX “Thirty-five!” She repeated. Her hands made a couple of tentative moves to the knot, stopped each time, then with a resigned jerk the knot was gone, the robe flopped down to her feet. She pointed to the door, made a turning gesture. “But not her, please!”
“Then who?” I breathed, my other hand rested on the silk smooth skin of her thigh, slid up her skirt to cup one soft bum cheek dressed with lace. “You are bad man,” Maria whispered, which hurt me, it was true, but still… “You should be ashamed, to use a mother’s love against her!”
I reached and flipped open
