I was wearing the black dress I slept in. I forgot to pack my blue silk nightgown, the one with lace across the breasts, so I had nothing new to show you. You laid your head on my thigh that night as we watched TV, your fingers flirting along the edge of my underwear, but going no further. In the morning we tried for nearly an hour, but I was first too dry, then bleeding, and finally you left me with a pop and went to take a shower. I lay on the bed, with my eyes closed and my legs still open, listening to the water run. You politely took me home, but we had to stop at the mall so I could buy clean underwear. I can't sleep tonight, remembering how my hair whipped around my face as we drove down the highway, with the windows open, and only the wind speaking between us.
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