* * *Looking in the bathroom mirror later that evening, my face became transparent, obscured by feeling and fantasy. Instead of my own r...flection, I saw another, more perfect visage appear. Emily. My daughter’s face. No, my wife’s face. My wife’s face. But however much I tried to make to her face stay, all I could really see was Emily’s. Her face painted in the glass, glorious technicolor so vivid I could almost touch her. I can almost feel her. Whatever lens I’m looking through. I lifted my teeshirt off over my head and saw him move still closer to me, almost between my knees.'Can I...' he paused. 'Can I touch your nipples?'I smiled thinking about it for a minute. 'Yes.'Very softly, his attention completely on the tiny points of flesh, his trembling hand reached to my right nipple where it stood out from the goosebumps on my chest and very tentatively touched it. I hadn't ever felt a touch like it. Soft and almost rabbit-like in its appreciation and apprehension.His. More

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