Everything about her body exudes sex appeal, every unch appealing. There is a longing in her eyes, a lustful secret she is begging to tell. In her breasts lies this story, in her hips that paragraph forms. As she moans and arches her pages turn; the story insightful, flirting and crude. Her tongue holds the subtext, of love and deceit. Her thighs beg him to stay, linger at least a while longer than the last. As she turns to her side, as though avoiding a coool wind, his arms reach for her and find her frightened, longing skin. Now though, it is not the same longing he finds.