Kristin Jones

his eyes as blue as the clear summer sky when there was not a cloud in site. The way he walked had purpose. His confidence radiating from his body like steam from a hot bowl of grits. He was educated and challenged her intellectually. She needed a real conversation. A two year old, while precious, could only say so much. He had to be passionate. He needed to match her stroke for strode and stride for stride. He had to be willing to please and willing to let her occasionally take the reins. Her womanhood started to tingle in a way that it had not in ages. What was her body telling her? She knew it had been a while since she had felt a release. It had been almost a year since she had felt the touch of a man