High glass walls looking out on sky scraping horizons. Shapes and colours, no names, no understanding.Shapes and colours swirl in the eye of a hurricane. All images sucked into a roaring hole of utter oblivion.The concept of yesterdays is gone. The mere idea of tomorrow is non-existent. It is hard enough to grasp the present, the integrity of her flesh. Hard enough to trust this centrifugal maelstrom of feelings and emotions. This constant arousal, this aching lust. Electric currents jab at her. They make her skin ripple, her spine arch.There always is the hunger, the need to taste the white slimy cream. To swallow it and paint her face with it. To feel it spurt over her tits and belly. The scent of it, the taste.There is the craving need to quench the fire in the central void of her being. There are the gaping throats of her flesh. She wants them filled, stretched to the limit. She wants them drowned in boiling liquids, seep with juices, leak with come. Come, the magic word.... And it had to be for the weekend. Julie wasn’t going to drive out on a Friday afternoon, fuck him and head home Saturday morning. If she was going out there, she wanted to make a full weekend of it. Nothing would be harder to cope with than wondering if he was going to be with someone else after she left, when she could have stayed and been with him herself. When Greg replied, he asked Julie in a rather vague way if she was interested in visiting him. Her heart rate quickened as she read his email. It looked like he was offering exactly what she wanted: a weekend with her lover. And a weekend far away from Gary, at that. It took a couple more emails and then a phone call, but within two hours, Julie had everything arranged with Greg. From that moment until she stepped out of her car in front of her house, Julie’s whole body ached with anticipation. Julie and Greg had never had so much freedom to be together. They had, of course, had several nights in a row when Gary was out of.
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