It stirs menus and stacks of serviettes flutter. The couple leave the café hand-in-hand, braving the storm together.Jealous, I watch them go. I want ...hat they have, that comfortable closeness and communication without the need for conversation. Unity.The heavy glass door swings shut once more, lulling the maelstrom and muffling the hubbub from the street beyond. The steady patter of the rain on tarmac and paving diminishes; the swoosh of tyres racing through the puddles becomes a dull drone,. The palm of my hand pressed tightly against her hard clitoris, stimulating that, too. It was a way of transferring my pain to her - but not as pain, but as pleasure. And she came. Yes, all the old cliches about the woman's moanings and cries for "more" are all true. How else does one decribe actuality? But this woman I knew was different and sure enough, as I expected, I felt around my now aching fingers in her cunt an increase in moistness as the warm flow of the now augmented juices that I. More

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