Sarah Part Eight
We walked into Sarah’s room holding hands. Holding hands wasnot an unusual thing, but it was an indicator of Sarah’s mood. “I missed you last night,” whispered Sarah, putting her arms around my neck. “I missed your touch.” “I thought you came three times last night?” I asked. “I did. And it was good. It was very good. But I woke up this morning wanting you.” Sarah untied her pajama bottoms and let them fall to the floor. While I watched, she unbuttoned the top of her PJ’s. She didn’t take the...