"Ummmm, you certainly feel nice," he whispered hotly into the tender tingling flesh of her ear, sensing her anger and resistance flow away to nothing as he touched her with his breath. The light fluttery warmth relaxed and yet exhilarated her, causing a maddeningly light throb of anticipation in Diane's loins and at the small, bud-like tips of her full breasts. Without thinking, she began to rotate her rounded flaring hip against her husband's sinewy male flank, pressing the softness of her still-clad flesh against him.

"You feel nice, too," she purred, wiggling even closer to him on the sofa.

"You know, I've got to leave in less than an hour," Bill reminded her huskily. "Maybe we ought to use the time for action instead of words." Feeling herself slipping further into the intoxicating warmth of his touch, she nodded her head in wordless agreement and ran her fingertips tremblingly across his cheek, her long red nails tracing the distinctive contours of his strong masculine face. In a corner of her passion-dimmed mind, she could hear the tempo of the falling rain increase, the drops now pattering on the roof and in the trees with a steady staccato sound that seemed to match the pulsing beat of her blood. Suddenly, she felt him shift beside her and ease himself off the couch and down to his knees on the floor. He knelt forward then and caught her long smooth legs, his palms eagerly clamping against the soft insides of her thighs as she giggled and struggled halfheartedly in an attempt to free herself. She could see him hunched down on his knees between her open legs, grinning up at her through the deep valley of her upstanding breasts like a conquering warrior about to partake of a feast as he pressed outwards against her with his hands.