“Let him dream about you. Then you’ll know how he feels.” I winced. “No. Bad idea.”“Why?” Melody looked guarded.“What happens in his d...eams feels real.”“What happens in his dreams,” she asked. “And how do you feel them?”“We’ve gotten close. He’s a teenager. He has ... those dreams, if you know what I mean. I found myself in one of them one night and, somehow, I could feel what he was dreaming of doing with me. It was terrifying, but at the same time luscious and beautiful. Since then he’s. She stretched out with a contented sigh and placed herself entirely at my mercy as I went to work applying olive oil to her skin before rubbing and kneading her flesh, working her over until she was slick from head to foot like a well-oiled seal. Her body was so slippery that my hands slid over her flesh while I worked her over, feeling her surrender to my caress with the inevitability of someone who was having their fondest fantasy fulfilled. Before I got to the next phase, however, I decided. More

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