Foreword
RIPE LOVE
He was thrilled that the years had touched her lightly. The difference was that she was bigger, more mature, with a richness like the succulent peach when it becomes golden under a red blush, ready to be plucked.
She cuddled close to him. She caressed him as though it were she who was the aggressor. She had gotten in the habit while he had been a mere broth of a lad who had to be led by the hand to the fount of ecstasy. She led him again, her lips hot beneath his. Her tongue, from old habit, made the first deep probe. It was like a signal and she became available to him, beckoning with her body.
She remembered all the little caresses, the tiny details....