‘Sorry, baby. But my mind is made up, I’ll not try to touch that body of yours until I’m rid of this brace.’ ‘Oh men!’ wailed Carson, and stomped off to her bedroom, slamming the door. Harry stood, mouth open, scratched his head with his good arm and went to shower. Lydia began crying. Thirty minutes later Carson came out, announced Lydia was asleep and told Harry she could put a couple of hours in working with him before she went shopping. Harry offered to accompany her shopping but Carson said no, quite defensively, he thought, unable to figure out why. Harry and Carson were moving along quite well with the new novel, which was half completed when Carson took over on the keyboard. She resolved that she was not comment on Harry’s dictation — she was simply there to hit the keys and correct literals, it was, after all, his book. Being soft by natural, Carson found it fairly easy not to interfere. Temptation to comment critically came only when they were working on the best part — the. You try hard to be brave, but I smell the fear in you. Guiding you to the couch, I turn you so you can sit. Supporting you, I lower you down to the cushions and position you in the middle. I reach to your ears and remove the remaining plug from your left ear. Leaning close, I feel the trepidation in your breathing. I gather the ear plugs, wiring, and reach into your waistband to remove your iPod and lay them on the table. Standing up, I look down on you. Such a beauty, your red hair is now spilling over your breasts, framing the cleavage established by the snug fitting tank top. Your breathing is rapid, surely due to the apprehension of your situation. I can see your nipples distending with each breath you take. It is a delicious mixture of fear and turmoil coursing all through your thoughts; enough that you might even be a little thrilled with the idea of not knowing what is going to transpire next. Making a minor adjustment to the table in front of the couch, I kneel. Lovingly,.
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