How You Touch Me Read Online Free Page B

meet my own wide, uncertain
ones.
    “ Sophia.” He scrapes his chair back and
comes to me. “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?
This is Mrs Kenny, my housekeeper, chef extraordinaire, miracle
worker and light of my life.”
    The woman moves away from the stove and smiles at me.
She is a plump woman in her mid fifties, with short, curly gray hair
and lively blue eyes. “Good morning. You must be Sophia.
Aren't you a lovely thing? I'm Mrs Kenny, and I am everything that
Julian says. He tells the truth, that he does. He is a good, honest
man, though I think he should get out more. For the sake of
everyone. Don't you think, Ms Sophia? Please, sit down. I'll get
you some pancakes.”
    “ I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs Kenny. Your
pancakes smell great.” I smile back.
    Julian pulls out a chair for me at the long dining table
and whispers into my hair at I sit down, “But not as great as
you.”
    He meets my startled gaze but looks away quickly with a
lopsided smile and starts pouring me a cup of coffee. When Mrs Kenny
turns around, he straightens his face and his back immediately. She
fixes him with a knowing look as she ambles over with a stack of
fresh pancakes. Julian reaches out to steal a pancake, and she
smacks his hand resoundingly.
    “ Let the lady eat first,” she scolds him.
    “ But I was here first!” he protests.
    “ The lady comes first,” she says with a
slight inflection of her voice. “Remember that. That is the
secret to my lasting marriage. And I should know. I've been happily
married to the first and only boy I dated for more than thirty years
now.” She winks at both of us and turns back to the stove.
    I blush deeply at the erotic turn of her words. Does
she know the purpose of my stay here? I look down as Julian heaps
the pancakes onto my plate. “Syrup, butter...?” he asks.
    “ I...I'll help myself to the maple syrup.
Thanks,” I say awkwardly.
    As I eat, I glance up frequently at Mrs Kenny as she
bustles around the kitchen, humming softly to herself. She is a
cheerful, sprightly woman, nimble on her feet and quick with her
hands and words. She continues bantering and joking with us as she
works. When she has finished her chores in the kitchen, she removes
her apron and pauses at the dining table on her way out. “Sophia
dear,” she says gently. “I'm really glad you're here.
You know, I haven't heard Julian talk and laugh so much in one
morning. You have brought joy back into this house, and to him.”
    I start, but words just fail me at this moment. Mrs
Kenny gives Julian an almost imperceptible nod and exits the kitchen.
I hear her moving in another part of the house, and the hum of the
vacuum cleaner comes on. I turn back to stare at my plate, unable to
look at Julian.
    “ She is a sweet woman,” I say at last.
    Julian nods. “She's been with me for more than
ten years. She's very sharp. She doesn't probe, yet she knows
everything at a glance. She cares, but she is not a busybody. She
would never gossip or interfere in anything I do.”
    I start chewing my lower lip instead of my pancake.
From her knowing looks and words which were pregnant with meaning, I
am sure that Mrs Kenny knows, or would at the very least have made an
uncannily accurate guess, at the real reason for my presence here. I
am a live specimen for Julian's study and research on sexuality and
female orgasms. Mrs Kenny is a sweet, gentle woman who has been
married to her first boyfriend for more years than I have been alive.
I redden, wondering whether Julian will require me to test the sex
machine in the day when Mrs Kenny is still in the house. I'm not
sure the drone of the vacuum cleaner is enough to drown out my moans
and screams of pleasure. I drain my coffee in one long gulp and face
Julian.
    “ So...what shall we do this morning?” I try
to keep my tone light and teasing, but the quaver in my voice is
obvious.
    Julian puts down his cup. “Shall we go for a
walk? You haven't seen the