Everything about it is misunderstanding. Every gesture, every movement, the way in which even sits on his hands slipping on the table, sometimes suggesting boredom and, sometimes, looking for a caress.
But he does not realize. Your attention is anchored in the cell. His thumbs are twisted and found on the keyboard as she and he made on a hotel mattress shelter around here how do den four. Any minute now.
She turns to the clock. Arrange your hair. Stay looking at the needles, as though they understand. Offers its neck and neck, her perfume. He continues with the phone. Shoulder she leans back and just played with a lock of his hair, nonchalant air faked. Cross your legs and turn in circles in her foot. The leather of the boot groans calm, soothed by the care. The men now waving in a subtle waltz, as if she were remembering a song you want to dance. His tongue just looks to pat his upper lip. His breathing has become deep and rhythmic. Searching her breasts with each breath.
He looks up. Watch the clock. "Oh, the four .- says" I hung with the little game .- said. Stops. Takes one last sip of coffee. Thrown to the trash. Turns toward her. - we?
She remains silent for a moment, that he acknowledges it. For him to see this song is about to dawn. To realize it is spring. Vibrating. Gambling. Prompting. For the kiss and cuddle and make love there. But his eyes alight on it without looking. She notices. Stops. He smiles. And walking beside him.
He opens the door. Sale. She leaves behind. And get lost in the night, twisting his fingers like on that game. But without play. When you do not understand subtlety, does not go into the game. Now, why she plays with it? Here, t period is misunderstanding me.
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