though I didn't want to stop. I almost wished he would
ignore me, but he was too sweet and loving not to
listen. He held me tightly, waiting for his own
breathing to calm.
"My heart's pounding like some
sledgehammer," he said. "I'm afraid they'll come
home and walk in on us. Barry.'
"No, you're right," he said. "Of course." "I don't want you to be upset," I said and kissed
him. He kissed me back.
"When you go beyond a certain point, it's like
trying to stop a car on ice," he muttered. He kissed my
breasts again and held me just as tightly. "It's hard to
just stop," he said, not moving away. "Maybe if we do
it slowly, like easing out of quicksand."
"You think I'm quicksand?"
"I wouldn't mind if you were pulling me down
and into you. Rose." he said.
I smiled and kissed him. He moved down, his
lips traveling over my breasts again to my stomach
and to my skirt, which was still undone. I pressed my hands against his ears and felt myself being pulled
along as he went further and further until I gasped. "Please," I said with barely a breath. "All right. I'm sorry. I want you so much," he
said.
We lay next to each other, waiting for our blood
to settle, like water that had reached its boiling point.
All we could hear was the sound of our own deep
breathing. Then, I heard something in the hallway and
moved quickly to get my bra back on and my blouse. "Are they here?" he asked nervously. He
reached over to turn the lamp on.
We both listened. Except for the very low
murmur of the television, it was silent again. I rose