See If You Can Hold Back While Watching Me Finish

Bobby mustn’t get too comfortable with me, but I can’t help but feel a pang of loss for that moment where we were connected. I don’t mind. Beneath my fingertips, that flawless silk lace and its accompanying solid fabric. We sit, me beside her as she hands me her heels. My fingertips skip that button, and the next, resting on the third. My bra is satin, with delicate lace atop and a front clasp. My heart skips a beat. You could be one day. My eyes fly open, but she is smiling warmly, amused by the mistake and my reaction, her right eyebrow raised in a question. I take my time. It is the most perfect of days. I like myself. I take him in in one glance. She stood before her Oma, being coached on the art of the hunt, building on the groundwork laid down since she was a little girl, all of it culminating in a fifty-year marriage to my Opa.