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Laura began to feel overwhelmed. Every nerve in her body was singing like a
plucked string and soon the vibrations would tear her apart--would drive her over
the edge of reason.
Can't take much more .... Then Vince pulled her closer and suddenly the dark
green shirt she wore was being unbuttoned. He reached inside, palming the heavy
fullness of her breasts, tweaking her ripe nipples with just enough force to shoot
jagged shards of pleasure/pain to the heat building between her legs.
She looked down and watched him touch her, awed by the contrast of his strong
brown hands against the pale skin of her full breasts. His skin on my skin, his
hands on my body, all over me, touching me, pushing me ... Waves of emotion
lapped higher and higher, cresting over her head. His need for her tugged at her
consciousness like a dangerous undertow. She was getting out too deep and she
couldn't swim. It was too much--she couldn't breath--she was drowning.
With a gasp that was almost a cry, Laura pushed away suddenly. Panting, she
scooted to the opposite end of the couch and crouched there, feeling like she
couldn't get a deep enough breath. Her head throbbed with the miserable ache of
sensation overload.
 What? Did I hurt you? Scare you? Vince was breathing heavily too and she
could feel the sexual frustration in his big body, a throbbing ache that wouldn't go
away. But his voice was filled with concern, not anger as he leaned towards her.
 I ... I'm sorry. I can't--I just can't. Realizing that the green shirt was still open,
exposing her breasts, Laura jerked it closed and tried to work the buttons with
trembling fingers but couldn't quite manage.
 You can't or you won't? He leaned closer and Laura scrambled further back,
feeling the arm of the couch gouge the small of her back.  Hey, settle down--it's
okay. I'm not gonna hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to do. I
already told you, I'm not about that. Vince held up his hands, palm up.  I just
wanna understand what's going on here.
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 I ... I just don't want to. Laura looked away, unable to meet his eyes. She
massaged her temples with her fingertips, willing the painful thudding ache to go
away.
 Okay. Vince took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.  I don't mind
backing off if you feel uncomfortable 'cause I know we haven't known each other
all that long. But don't sit there and tell me you don't want to all of a sudden when
you were panting and moaning in my lap a minute ago. Just tell me the truth. He
was beginning to be angry now, a bright needle of pain behind her eyes.
 I can't, all right? And no, it doesn't have anything to do with your skin being
brown and mine being white. It has to do with my hyper-empathy. You ... you
were overloading my system. I got scared. Laura drew herself into a tight bundle,
shivering, her senses still reeling and her head still pounding from the terrifyingly
pleasurable assault.
Vince looked at her perplexed.  I don't get it. Does this have more to do with your
'tolerance' or what? How did you manage when you were married?
 I didn't--okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Why my husband really left me?
What Francine could give him that I couldn't? Her breath hitched in her throat
and her ahead ached.
 Whoa--Hey, ease down now, baby. He put out a hand and then drew it back
abruptly.  I didn't mean to get all up in your business, Laura. But are you telling
me that you never...?
 No. I'm a virgin and likely to remain one. She lifted her chin and gave him the
most icy look she could muster under the circumstances.  Gerald and I found out
fairly early on in our relationship that when we tried to ... have relations that it
wasn't going to work. The skin-on-skin contact created a closed loop between us
that became unbearably intense very rapidly.
 Was that because you were both hyper-sensitive? The deep voice was quiet,
soothing. He really wanted to know.
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Laura shrugged.  In part, yes. I'm sure you've heard the phrase, 'There's a fine line
between pleasure and pain.' That was the case when Gerald and I tried to have sex.
His emotions fed mine and pushed them higher and mine fed his until neither of us
could stand it. She sighed.  He told me ... he said it didn't matter, you know?
That it was something he could do without. I realized after I found him with
Francine that I never should have believed him about that. She, Francine, was only
minimally hyper-sensitive. Sex was apparently no problem for her. She said it
dryly, willing herself not to cry. It was an old pain but it still hurt.
Vince reached out and caught the loose sleeve of the green shirt. Gently, he tugged
her closer, being careful not to touch her skin.  Hey, I'm sorry. Didn't mean for
you to have to go through all that mess.
Laura shrugged, turning her face to rub her cheek against the soft material of the
shirt. Touch is the key. But how? And why?
 But you know .... I still don't understand. Vince's deep voice was thoughtful. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]