As Coltrane pours his heart into his version of “My Favorite Things” I hear a knock on the door. My tongue responds, drawing a slow line from her pussy to her clit, circling and returning over and over again. Sex video The late summer evening is fading to night, and I can feel the chill in the breeze that is promising fall. I feel her hands on my hips and sliding up under my sweater, soft and warm. I’ve taken this evening for myself, coming home and slipping into my favorite jeans and a light sweater, letting my hair fall out of its tightly wound “business bun” and kicking back with a bottle of my favorite white, a wedge of aged cheddar and the iPod playlist that favors mid century jazz looping




















