It was the weekend, and finally time to relax. She napped, like a cat, with the afternoon sun slipping in, warm, from the window. She'd rolled and shifted in her sleep, and her skirt had bunched up on her hips. As the angle of the sun shifted, it moved down along her body. I caught it, a perfect moment, the light golden and warm on her smooth buttocks, suggestive and inviting. But she was so peaceful, so relaxed, I let her sleep, and took only a photo for my memory. I return to it and touch myself; sometimes looking can be just as powerful as possessing. Sometimes even more so.
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