Anthony couldn't help but wonder if it was just this century or the idea that it could happen with out a second thought. Johanna was talking, she was kissing him. Her tongue pressing in.
"How'd you learn to do that?" Not that he didn't know what it was. He'd been to some exotic places of course, but Johanna. What had she been doing?
"I watch a lot of TV." She breathed into his ear as she touched his neck, feeling inside his sweater. It was definitely getting hot in here.
"Evidently, I've neglected to do so."
"What have you been up too?"
"Well," Anthony grabbed her hand then, looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Thinking of you always, but I've been busy living just a few floors below you, in fact. I've met a Frenchman who's been a friend. He's gotten me through this."
"You've been here all along?" Her eyes lit.
"Well, I'm sorry. I didn't know what had happened to you."
"Of course." It sounded understandable as she was undressing him.
"Just which channel were you watching?" He didn't mind, but really this was moving much faster than he antispated.
"I want you. And I think it should happen." She nodded.
"Oh." So he was supposed to shut up now. He could do that. Quite easily.
"Well, do somethng," she told him. He guessed taking his shoes off would help.
Of course, she meant his pants. Everything. This was quite do-able. Absolutely, her hand to guide him. It was all beginning to sink in, in the broad daylight. She wasn't one of those lasses who liked everything in the dark.
It was a fit of passion as he took in her pale skin and softness. It was better than he imagined. And she knew what she was doing.
He kissed her back madly as she road atop of him as if this was a done deal, and he better be ready. And he was. He just didn't know it could happen so quickly.