Re: Howard, Maria and the theatre box
Her knowledge of him, her ability to know exactly what he liked, without him having to say a word, was even evident in the aftermath. As his body sank into the seat, and the sweet abyss of pleasure after, he looked up at the ceiling, his hand still cupping her as he felt the slow ebb of her climax squeeze and release, and finally ease. Already his mind had memorised the mechanics of it, ready to recall each stroke and the nuances, the expressions that danced across her face enough evidence to his mind on the pleasure he could give her thus.
"My magnificent Maria," he murmured as he watched her ride out the after-tremors.