We Are Sorry For The Quality We Are Still Very...

"She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, got into her car and said, "See you."I didn't see or hear from Nancy for a couple of weeks since she had been to my house. Surprisingly, she sent a postcard from Cape Cod. There was a message written on it that was just cryptic enough for anyone who might glance at the postcard:Hi Jack -On August 27th at 6:00, you will be in the clearing.Be on the picnic table. You know what to do.I will see you then.Kisses,NancyI knew what she meant, and this was certainly different. I was already concerned over how the people next door were acting towards me - having gotten the big chill when I tried to initiate some conversations while doing yard work. It made me wonder whether other neighbors had seen me fucking Nancy in the window and if there was gossip going around. So I had my doubts about whether I could go through with it. At the same time, I found myself constantly thinking about Nancy and about the rush of watching or doing a sexual act in public.. We had talked about it, dreamed, wondered and imagined how it would be.There is always that initial excitement, knowing the possibility of passion, coming together for the first time. The frenzied furious groping, explorations and caresses.That would come, later perhaps, but not now.Now, as we knew it would be, had to be, was even more intimate. Many might not see it as such, but we did. This dance, our first dance together would be far more sensual, far more erotic than anything we could have ever imagined.And like a dance, it is interesting that when people dance apart, they watch one another, observing the movements of their partners, enjoying the flow, the curve and lines that move sensually to the music. That intimacy can sometimes be lost when partners touch, the thoughts turning to doing things by the numbers. Stepping here, leading there, guiding our partner through a series of specific movements. The beauty and grace perhaps appreciated by others who may be watching, like.
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