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Wednesday She did her morning stretches in the nude. As always I had to watch as she stretched her legs and arms. She went into splits, reaching for one foot, then the other, the black fur patch between her legs flush with the soft white carpet. She got on her knees and stretched forward, round rear in the air, then pivoted and stretched her arms up the wall, arching her back. She froze at the touch of my fingers on her side. I knelt behind her, and caressed her with one hand, then the other, running them up her sides to her breasts, then down to her hips, then around again. Hands still stretched above her head, palms against the wall, she moved with my hands. I reached around and cupped and squeezed her right asscheeck as my left hand continued stroking her side from breast to hip. Then I traded hands. Her slow steady breathing came louder and harder. I cupped a hand under her sex and she lurched slightly at the contact. My middle finger played with her slit, which was just. She slammed the door a trifle too hard and took another deep breath.Last night had been the worse. She had come home, thinking that she would work herself into a coma. It hadn't worked that way. She should be exhausted. Normally would be exhausted. But her brain wouldn't turn off. Bodies and Nick, the case, the way he had felt against her body, in her body. She finally had slammed the file shut and shoved a dining room chair so hard it had almost gone out the window.She had stormed into her bedroom, a room she had been avoiding since she got home. She hadn't even changed clothes yet. He was there, a ghost with a sexy smell that had infused her sheets with his presence. She viciously tore them off the bed and dumped them into her laundry hamper. If she still had a job tomorrow, she would take them to the coin laundries and wash them with a good dose of her favorite laundry softener to get rid of his smell.She tore the pillowcase off the pillow he had used, refusing to let her hands.
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