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Moon landings, Charles Manson, Woodstock, Chappaquidick, and Viet-Nam, were raging that summer, there with Katie, none of that registered much with me.I had my fingers on the top button of her blouse, and she stroked them so gently while waiting for me to sliding through the hole. I thought she was going to brush my hand away, but together we pushed that button through the hole, and the seam of her cleavage glowed in the Michigan moonlight. Katie did not speak, not a word, just her breathing, never broke the kiss. Katie wanted me, that was becoming clear - that was a new experience for me, to be with a woman who was just hungry for affection and sex. She was about to become a beautiful lover, a sweet 4-H upper peninsula girl who only in time, without looking, threw me the life preserver with a line attached that saved my life. What came next in our lovemaking were three more buttons coming loose, and still more kisses.The process of writing this is great for me, a visual person,. He looked back, and he knew what was coming. "Say that again," she said. He smiled - gently. "'I love you'?" he asked. "Sure. I love you, Beth. It's a little soon, maybe. But that's what I'm feeling." Paul knew she would cry at that, and he held her as she did, kissing her head and cuddling her as she sobbed into his shirt. Her hands wandered his chest and tugged at him aimlessly, and she even pounded him a little with her small, chubby fists. He held her tightly till the storm had passed, till she was breathing quietly and only hiccuping a little against his shirt. She lifted her head and dabbed at it, sniffling. "I got mascara on your shirt," she whimpered. "I'm sorry..." "I'll treasure it forever, sweetness," he said. He kissed her tears away. "You we're crying so hard," he said softly. Her eyes filled again. "I never thought I'd hear that."He smiled. "You'll hear it again."They stopped talking. Their tongues had other things to do. --- They snuggled and whispered and kissed till.
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