Nipply

He took my elbow. I could feel the warmth of his fingers pressing through the gauzy fabric of my blouse. I thought it would be warm that day, but it was chilly, instead, and my nipples were prominently on display, announcing "I'm cold" or "I'm hot" to those who saw me, depending on their interpretations of my erect status. His breath was warm, too, as it flowed over my neck and ear. "You're trembling," he said. The low, intimate tone sent a convulsive shiver down my spine. The hair all over my body prickled, and warmth glowed in my core. The waves of cold from the air battled the heat radiating from within. I wanted him to take me to bed and warm me up. I wanted to feel the brands of his hands cradling me, coaxing the coals of my passion. He pulled the chair out for me and I sat, and the waitress handed me a menu, and I sighed, knowing it contained nothing that would satisfy my hunger.