Lawrence's apartment. Then another five weekspassed. Bright and early on a Monday morning Ms. Lawrence was in thekitchen having breakfast when Tim en...ered the kitchen. He was dressed inmen's pyjamas, men's slippers had combed his hair back tightly and wasn'twearing any makeup or jewelry. The salon nails and any trace of the glossred polish had been removed, the scent of Old Spice now floated around himas he shuffled into the kitchen his long men's bathrobe undone, the sashhanging loose as he. Alone in her dinky living room, she reverently unwrapped her prize. It was oddly cool to her touch. This was no toy, like that silly, absurdly pink thing Miranda had given her. This was weighty, solid, serious. The blunt torpedo shape was meant for nothing more, or less, than penetrating her most intimate part.Now that she'd gotten it home, she was oddly hesitant. She stood it on her nightstand and turned on the shower.When she got out, warm and flushed and pink, it was waiting patiently.. More

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