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A woman finally finds the joys of lust.

No proof. Maybe I didn't want to see any proof, you know? Easier that way? I take it you're not married?"

"I was years ago when I was struggling to get started in life, she wanted better, I guess I was her starter husband. So for me it ended badly, but thank heavens it was a clean break, no children to complicate things. She lives in Cleveland now. We're Face book friends, whatever that means. I've dated other women of course, but there hasn't been anyone I've been serious about."

"You know, I'd be lying if I said our marriage wasn't in a bad spot right now. Just the unrelenting God damn fucking pressure! Money, the kids, he's miserable at work, I'm getting rejected every day job hunting."

She paused, gazing placidly out the window, face relaxed with sadness in her eyes.

"Funny, right here, at this window of all places, I'm at ease ...Not just now, like...whenever. Like you said, the house has magic, a spirit, maybe.

You're right about easing the money woes, and, getting away from all this for a few hours no strings attached; it might make my marriage bearable. Let me hang in there until it gets better. Sex here is...well hopefully it'll be better."

We chatted amiably for an hour, as she slowly got comfortable with me. She began to relax some. Faced me directly, perched again on a stool, her posture was open, one arm draped across the counter, the other gesturing as she chatted. Her legs were relaxed one foot on the rung of the stool, the other wagging in the air, teasing me. However, no little touches on my arm or hand to suggest that me touching her would be welcomed just yet.

"Look, Chris, you know this is hard, and I'm thinking maybe this is not...the thing to do, you know? Can I get back to you on this Monday?"

"You want to try to live your life with this decision hanging over your head for days? You're understandably anxious and maybe you need to increase your comfort level? I stood up gesturing for her do as well which she dutifully did, standing before me, hands at her sides, looking warily, wonderingly at me. I put my hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes.

"You're nervous and worried I may be warped?"

She looked at me, not really understanding.

"It might turn out I am totally clueless as to how to please a woman? And it would be a misery for you? Let me give you a demonstration. Kissing and light petting. Standing up, just making out for a few minutes. No sex today. Nothing to confess to anyone, just kissing and touching above the waist. Just that and no more."

"You say that, but you wouldn't be the first one to get going and refuse to stop."

"I'm really sorry if some son of a bitch forced you. I've never done that to woman or girl. Never would. Really! You've been alone in the house with me for well over an hour. Did I follow you upstairs? Have I groped you? Give me a break! I'm giving you a chance to test the waters without really getting wet. To see if you have the courage to do this, or... just say no, and we go on from there. What's your decision?"

"Kissing and hands above the waist. That right?"

"Yes. Just like high school petting."

"Well, it's not as...as bad as it could be. I guess..."

She stood there, clearly unenthusiastic, passive, resigned. Arms at her side, head down. I slid my hands across her shoulders, up her neck, with my palms on her cheeks, and held her head, which was still downcast. My fingers were buried in her thick black hair. My thumbs rubbed her eyebrows and temples, and the pads of my palms lightly touched her ears. I leaned down, pulled her into me in a hug, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair, and letting my breath warm her scalp.

Breath coming from deep within the very core of us is so very intimate and sexy. I pressed my open mouth on her scalp, exhaling so she could feel the warmth of my breath. I began massaging her scalp with my finger tips while my palms continually gently rubbed her ears. After a few minutes I felt the muscles in her forehead relax, the tension was easing.

"You have a magnificent head of hair.

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