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I was wearing a t-shirt and a half lower. She was in tights, bra, round neck top, with pull over on it (one with the zip kind (hoodie with a zip)). So people now the actual fun begins.I am sleeping to her right. With my left hand i got hold of her right hand. Our fingers intertwined and she held them tight. A fight had ensued between our feet. I was moving a foot up and down up to her knees. We did this for some time. Since my left hand was occupied, i placed my right hand on her stomach over her hoodie. I played with it. I moved down till i found the end. Her tee was tucked inside her lower tights. So to insert into her tee i had to insert hand into the tights and technically just centimeters above her vagina. She shuddered. I realized my location and dared to move towards her panty. She understood the mischief and stopped my hand saying no. Oh that aroused, “no” gets me hard even today. I then embark on my earlier idea of entering the tee. I feel her naval. I inserted a finger. I believe I'm here to write poetry and stories and that’s what I do. I’m blessed and feel grateful. I really appreciate how lucky I am to have found this place and to be able to write and garden. I couldn’t be happier.” I looked over at his notebook sitting on his manuscript next to the lamp on the small table. “I saw you writing today, you looked so engrossed, like nothing else existed. What were you writing?” He chuckled and glanced over at the notebook then back at me. “I was working on a new poem. I’ll read you a few lines—not the whole poem—I’m still working on it, but it’s almost finished and I’d like you to hear it. Thanks for asking.” He smiled at me and went over to the small table with the lamp, picked up the notebook and came back to the table and sat down, turning the pages, looking for the lines he wanted to read, then he adjusted his glasses, tugged at his beard. “Okay, here goes. This poem is called, Following Dawn. I’m imagining I am above the world following the.
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