P4U
The Touch of a Woman As he slowly crept down the hall in silence that morning his heart was in his throat. The house was quiet. It was amazing. With all the people sleeping after dinner, not one was awake, the object of his desire sleeping a mere ten yards away behind a closed door sat at the end of the hall. But the doors were closed. Not a sound. Not even snoring. And behind one door she was sleeping. How many nights had he longed for just one look. To just watch her sleep. Every night as she went to her bedroom, she bade him a good night as she passed by, exchanging looks as the scent of her shower drifted across him. He could envision her rinsing the soap from her body, as he watched her walk to her room, her wet, auburn hair hanging loose just past her shoulders and her silk robe clinging to her form. How many nights had he imagined that form in his mind, wanting just one more second as she went to her bed, and tonight his passion had overwhelmed him ...