2.18- Honeymoon

It's one thing to promise yourself in the wee hours of the morning to respect your boundaries and make sex less of an issue, but quite another to see his new wife in a revealing blouse.

Her tanned, smooth thighs cling to her body like a second skin, as she apparently wears them while swimming.

She was lying on a recliner with her face tilted toward the house, her eyes closed, and her brown hair falling to her shoulders. She looks beautiful, untouchable, and downright sexy. So much for good intentions.

When all his blood had pooled in a particular part of his body, he walked towards her, glad that his shorts were black and could somehow hide the evidence of her attractiveness. He moved until his shadow was on her face, and he watched and waited.

Slowly, her eyes opened, locked on to his, and a frown briefly tightened her face, then she sat up, embarrassed and self-conscious, reaching for the towel and pinning it to her chest, as if she wasn't one of his business shirts, it was hers.