It has to be the smell of rain that is rushing nostalgia into her senses. Above all else, she wishes she could be strolling under that rain outside the windows with you.

The way she slids your love into her lover, the kissing so wild, the make-loves, her sweet-nothings that tingle her lover's fancies, the walk she struts with her seductive bums and the way the couple make the loving whole, practicing love underneath the sacred sheets.

Tomorrow, we'll experiment recollecting bodily needs.