Voluptuously Yours,

Firmly Loosening

Washing her hand, Dawn sees the blood stains swirl in motion and getting sucked into the round strainer finally, disappearing down the drain.

The house was dark and quiet. Lorenzo had gone off to a party and wouldn't be back and Gloria being Gloria disappeared for the night as well.

Lorenzo had told her that Richard's birthday was tomorrow. When he smirked at her, the flush called attention to her throat.

He laughed at her reaction and when she asked him what gift should she bring for him. He then simply said, "Richard doesn't do gifts. He likes the company more."

When she didn't understand, he said that when she would get an invite, she would be wise to accept it.

The whole day Dawn had remained home because she couldn't show up for work.

She had no new pictures to show to Giovani. When he called to ask her whereabouts, she simply said she was in an artist stupor and wished for some more time.

He bought it but gave her a week's deadline to complete her task.

Although Giovani had been impressed by her work, he had said if she gave him the next pictures soon enough, he would select and put up the best of them in his next major upcoming photography exhibition.

To think her work would be showcased in those galleries for people to see was...There were no words.

To state her overjoyed nature at her finally doing what she was meant to do, the words couldn't describe her feelings.

The only thing that was a current hindrance was her subject. Just thinking about him was enough to cause her to perspire and had her sex clenching.

She tried so many times of thinking new ways to approach Richard and explain the silly misunderstanding that was left behind.

Yet every time she saw him, those eyes traced her with a devilish intent.

The need to put distance was not a coy's game she was playing but an actuality. A necessity.

Richard was becoming her new drug.

The whole week had passed and she saw several opportunities to walk up to him and talk about their situation. Clear the shabby misinterpretation.

Her stomach quenched every time.

Today, she finally decided to do something about it but when she saw his shirt spilled with blood. Her heart was in her mouth.

Concerned and consciously, she let him lean his weight on her and carried him to his quarters.

She laid him down on the bed and removed his shirt only to sigh in relief when there were few scratches. No bleeding cuts.

Clearing up one solid thing.

The blood on his shirt belonged to someone else.

The question of 'whom' vanished as she cleaned his body with a wet cloth. There should be a logical reason to this but regarding Richard, nothing seemed sensible.

Undressing him and making sure to cover his groin with a towel over it, she pulled his pants and boxers away.

His eyes were closed like he was almost dead but the slight breathing sounds made her relieved.