I didn't stiffen up and get victim posture, despite the potential threat, nor did I get relaxed enough to seem insouciant and sassy, disrespectful. I ...idn't want to seem brash or hopless. Hoping I had the right balance, I waited for their move, so I could verbaly counter and deflect, as much as possible. I intended to survive, without crippling injury, but I wasn't certain I could go unscathed or without a certain level of humiliation. They were an assorted bunch, and looked strange, mishapen. If I trace a line with one fingertip down your side, at what point does it finally reach your hip? How does my hand feel when gripped around that hip? What sounds fall from your lips when first I grasp it tight? Do your eyes fall closed against the wave of pleasure? Do you quiver? Do those hips press closer to meet me with the anticipation of what is to come? I wonder at the arc of your spine. I imagine my fingers traveling its length, from your neck to the small of your back, feeling out the. More

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