She thanked me for a lovely day and shook my hand.She thanked me for a lovely day and shook my hand. Livinia changed and we headed for my house. It's three long flights to my top-floor apartment and halfway through the last flight, I couldn't resist running my hand up Livinia's denim clad thigh. She paused and pressed down against my fingers, then scurried the last few steps to my door. My so-called cat flopped on his back and demanded belly mushes before granting admission, then stood over his (nearly full) bowl and cried for food. I made a show of shaking the Cat Chow box over the bowl and he was happy and left us alone while I took her short down coat and gave her the fifty-cent tour. She expressed surprise that the apartment didn't look like a pigsty; bachelors have a bad reputation in that. From my living room window, we could look out over the rooftops to the east and see the jets in their graceful dance waiting to land at Laguardia Airport and as we stood and watched the silent ballet, I slipped my arms around her from behind. She snuggled back against me and pulled my hands to her breasts. She was wearing a turtleneck and there was nothing beneath it but Livinia. Her nipples were already hard and in a few moments, they were even harder. I got my hands up under the sweater and savored the full, firm weight of her lovely breasts, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples. She started resisting, pushing away from the window. "People will see!" she protested. I turned out the light and we were illuminated only by what came through the window from the winter New York night sky. |