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She was grateful because it kept her from feeling self-conscious about her scars when she got into the water with him.There was always something wrong with her form that required his attention, but she suspected it was just an excuse to keep his hands on her body. Di didn't mind because she craved his touch. The light tickling of his fingers made her warm despite the chill in the air.There had been no mistaking his reaction when she applied the coconut oil to them both the night before. She worried he would see her hands trembling as she reached for his leg, but he quickly relaxed and she found herself enjoying touching him as much as he obviously enjoyed being touched.When she oiled her own legs, she made sure to flash a little panty his way and saw his erection pushing out the front of his shorts. He was careful when he adjusted himself but she still saw him do it out of the corner of her eye. It was intensely satisfying to know he was attracted to her, which had fueled a long. Over the last few months, however, she had stopped talking about work, and snapped at me if I pressed her. I thought we had developed good communication skills, but those skills suddenly didn’t seem to work anymore when it came to her work. Then, a few weeks ago, we had stopped having sex. She claimed to be tired from work, so she couldn’t wait up for me after my gigs.I came to bed one night after a gig to find Laura asleep, curled tightly into a ball, with my pillow clutched tightly in her arms, her face almost buried in it. Her pillowcase was wet, almost soaked through and smeared with her mascara.“Laura – Laura, sweetheart, please – what’s wrong? What’s the matter?” I whispered gently to her, caressing her face, feeling the tears there.“Oh, Tom!” Her usually decisive voice was almost inaudible, and trembled so I could hardly understand the words.“Tom, I love you so much, and I believe in you so much, and I want only the best for you...” Her voice died away in quiet sobs.“I already.
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