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relax. Her hands made their way to my abs and worked each set, one side at a time. When she reached my belly button, I put my hand on top of hers. It paused, then started to pull away. I held it in place. “Don’t stop,” I said. I released the hand and lay back on the bed. A finger traced a small circle at the top of my hip. “Don’t stop,” I murmured. The hand moved down slowly. It wrapped itself around me, softly at first, then with a firmer grip as it started to stroke my skin. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. Annie leaned over me. I could see the years on her body, but didn’t care. Neither did she. “Stop?” she asked. “Don’t,” I said. “No way,” she replied.

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The Fine Line Issue 3  

The Fine Line presents its third compilation of art, fiction and poetry by contributors Francis Raven, Michael Young, Dorothee Lang, Raj Sha...

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