Hridy Wants More

When we started going to the lessons with them, I described my touches with Ginger as an electric shock. By this time, that electric shock had become ...ore of a lightning bolt! Every little touch sent a surge through me. I thought of a thousand different ways to ask her to the Cotillion. They all seemed lame and as we got closer to the end of the lesson, the more nervous and scared I was getting, almost like high school again. This time, though, I, at least, had enough courage that I wasn't. You give me all I need. You chuckle, eyes glittering and take two plates off the conveyor belt. Inari-zushi, my favourite.The conversation rambles, and even though we spoke for over an hour last night, there is plenty to talk about in between comfortable silences. Food, observances, music and what is running on what I like to call our 'internal soundtracks'. Mine is an old release by Dir en Grey, yours is an English song called "Boys of Summer". You spend a moment humming it softly, since I do. More

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