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“Oh no,” I thought as I read the local section. Joe and the Mayor were at it again. Joe owned a piece of property up by the mall and was refusing to sell it to a developer because it was a buffer between parking lots and a little trout stream. The Mayor, who was a hypocritical S.O.B, was accusing Joe of blocking progress and being a job killer. This battle between them had been going on for months. Disgusted, I threw the paper in the recycle box and went back to housework. **** At dinner, I ate my salad consoling myself with a glass of chardonnay and the Sony instruction manual. I discovered I had charged it correctly and after dinner, I went upstairs to set things up for Gary. I set the camcorder next to the lamp on the dresser and pressed the record button. After a few minutes, I stopped recording and hit the play button. I was very impressed by the high definition picture on the little screen. I had set it correctly with a large depth of field and wide-angle shot. I clearly could. The feel of her soft hands on my chest and shoulders was exquisite. I rubbed her breasts, fascinated by their small firmness. They gave me such urges. Mataoka needed a kiss. We needed to splash more cold water on each other to get the soap off and keep ourselves calm until we got back to our den for the night.I watched her comb out her wet hair. I wanted to help. But I also wanted to be far enough apart to watch her properly. I loved the way her breasts rose and fell as she lifted and dropped her arms as she combed. I wanted to kiss her. “You peeking,” she giggled.I waited until she put the comb down and pounced. We found each other and it didn’t hurt her so much this time and she wouldn’t let me stop. Soon it was nice, really nice. Now we felt like proper man and wife. We had grown up. We had each other. Forever.The next morning the snares were empty – Mataoka joked that she had rushed to put them out the night before as she couldn’t bear to be apart from me, but I figured it was.
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