It was wash and rinse, wash and rinse, our hands and arms learning to dance together with every plate, cup, glass, knife, fork, spoon, utensil, pot an... pan. Drying wasn't any simpler, and returning everything to its place in drawer and cabinet was a new lesson in cooperation. Hurrying was a recipe for disaster. One plate paid with its life, and sent both us down on our knees -- careful not to cut ourselves -- to pick up the pieces. Fortunately it wasn't the good china. Getting the last tiny. Before I felt his hands wrap around my waist, I felt his lips. Oh, his lips. The skin on my neck melted on contact with each kiss. Every slow, wet, tender kiss. I felt each one in my whole body. He continued to suck at my neck as I slowly slid one of his hands down the front of my pants, not wasting time to play with the red lace underneath them that I had worn in case of this special occasion. I kept my hand on his and glided his fingers in a circular motion around my hot mound, telling him I. More

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