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Romance Novel

Tom Clayton

Tom Clayton

Administrator
Staff member
I was at the home of a friend recently, and his wife had one of those cheap paperback romance novels on the coffee table. I asked why she read that kind of crap and she opened the book and showed me a section she'd just read:

He held me firmly but gently just above my elbow and guided me into a room. I had never been there but I knew this was his room. I knew what he was going to do to me, and I knew I was going to let him. The door closed quietly and we were... alone.

He approached silently from behind and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear. "Just relax."

Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and caressing upward along my tender calves slowly and steadily. My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure.

When his hands moved under my skirt to my thighs I gave a slight shudder and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. His knowing fingers continued upward across my abdomen, my ribcage. Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, his teasing hands quickly moved to my shoulders and slid down my tingling spine. By entire body was throbbing when he discovered my lace panties.

Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. "This is a man," I thought. A man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking "No" for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say...

"Okay all done. Here's your purse, ma'am. Have a nice flight."
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