She was still more afraid of the other passengers on the train than me. She was of course mostly afraid they'd notice what we just did.I stroked her h...ir to calm her down but I didn’t want her to get too comfortable with me. With my other hand I touched her crotch beneath the hem of her dress. She winced as I curved two fingers up inside of her. I pulled up just enough to force her to stand on her tip toes for a couple of seconds. She did not resist at all. It was like I had full permission to. Slowly rolled my eyes. My exasperated eyes. I slowly rolled my exasperated eyes. 'Spellcheck said it was okay!' Her fingers rattled the keys as she spoke. 'It would. Sometimes it's stupid. You needed the verb there. "Passed." Your "past" is an adjective, a preposition or...' My eyes glazed over. 'You're mixing your tenses again too. That "don't remember" should be "didn't remember". See?' I double-glazed over. She shook her head. She was doing lots of that. 'Let's leave it there and I'll get. I’m scared you’ll leave me, kick me out, tell me you hate me. I’m scared you won’t let me touch you again. I’m scared of what James will think. I love you. I always have.’ For the last six or so of the last eight years of our relationship, Trin would tell me every so often she loved me. She’d made it clear she was bisexual, and also made it clear it wasn’t a sexual love, but rather like the sister she never had. She’d once had a brother, who killed himself when they were teenagers. I loved her. I’m just running diagnostics on the computers. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”“Take your time, Hun. You’re not bothering me. Oh, sorry about that,” she said as she turned away blushing.“Sorry about what? It’s ok. I understand women sometimes use that word in conversations. Really it’s no big deal.”“If you’re sure Bret. I just don’t know how to talk to you anymore. You seem distant since you got…”“Divorced? You can always talk to me. I am just trying to keep busy. That doesn’t mean I.
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