He kisses her. Long and deep and passionately, her hands resting on his shoulders. As he pulls his head away, he sees the fire in her eyes."What do yo... want?", he asks.She considers. She is not sure. she wants to be snuggled, held close and stroked and cherished. But she also wants to be hurt. And, of course, she wants to be fucked.What she is craving most of all is their connection. What she is craving is submission. Ownership, even.He watches her as she thinks. He sees the different thoughts. “No, it’s okay, I was just taking a shower.”Another sound of his voice and she spoke again. “No, it’s okay I'm not in any rush.”I could hear him speaking again.“Awww, that’s very nice of you to say. I enjoyed myself last night too.”She laughed at something he said. “Especially this morning.”Joe spoke again. “Would I like a repeat performance?” she responded. “Of course I would, Joe. I had a wonderful time last night.”More words were spoken by Joe. “Yes, next Friday would be fine.”Joe spoke. I was so exhausted, I slept until noon.And only then did my excitement really crash through me. Daddy was gone, heading to his office at Church preparing for Sunday’s sermon—just because we were having a wild night with a woman didn’t mean he couldn’t slack on his duties as a preacher. He had a flock to lie to.And I hoped his sermon was on the evils of homosexuality, particularly between women. I wanted to listen to it tomorrow while remembering the taste of my first female lover.Since I had. "Shit," I hissed then looked over at my sleeping husband.I've never told anyone about that hot summer's afternoon some ten years ago now but I had often re-lived it inside my head. I slipped out of my bed and headed downstairs to our small kitchen where I poured myself a glass of cold water. My dream was alive inside my head and my body was still reacting to those thoughts.It had been a hot summer that year and that afternoon I had donned my squaw outfit for the very last time. The seven.
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