She picked up the wineglass and drank deeply before sitting it back down. Closing her eyes, she stroked the soft swell of her naked breasts once again. It almost seemed to her that someone else guided her movements, and if she leaned back she’d feel the heat of a body behind her. That thought sent a thrill of excitement rushing down her body, but she didn’t lean back, not wanting to feel the disappointment.

I saw Marty standing near the motorcycle dressed in jeans, boots, and leather jacket, and felt a rush of heat. His black hair and beard, with just a touch of grey, seemed to complement the sleekness of the black tank and chrome pipes — a sexy image that would invade my dreams for the next two weeks.

She caught a glimpse of a new, shiny red convertible, sitting on a platform at a car lot. On impulse, she turned her car into the lot, parked, and maneuvered her legs encased in her new tight jeans out the door. Her bright red heels, part of her new look, clicked on the pavement as she strutted toward that beautiful car.