Nodding almost imperceptibly, Brandy deferred the formality to me, and the sommelier presented the bottle for my approval. I nodded in acceptance, and watched as he began to cut the foil off the bottle. It was then that I felt Brandy's bare foot press into my crotch, gently grazing my flaccid penis. I raised an eyebrow at her, and was rewarded with a wicked smile from behind her water glass as she raised it to her lips. From the corner of my eye, I could see her smile as she began kneading my cock to hardness with her pretty toes. I accepted the cork and then the first pour with slight distraction, as I felt the blood swelling me uncomfortably inside my pants. Apparently, I had been resting at a downward angle as she began her ministrations, and now my rod was tenting the leg of my trousers as she unrelentingly stroked my erection. Finally, the wine was poured, and Brandy offered a sweet "thank you" to the sommelier as he left the table. "Brandy, you bitch!" I complained to her with. " She saw his eyes fill with tears. She rose and hugged him, sitting down on his lap. He smelled of a lack of washing."I know it hurts," she whispered. "It hurt me too. It still hurts." She kissed his tear-streaked cheeks; he didn't respond. Then he pushed her off his lap, making her slide to the floor."I can't," he said. "I'm out." And he left, closing the door with a bang.Juliana hugged herself on the floor.She wasn't hungry. She made some tea and went to bed in her old, long flannel nightgown. She felt abandoned – it was an old feeling returning. Darkness crept into the room. On the opposite wall she could still discern a small reproduction of the famous Wyeth painting: a girl lying in a meadow looking up to an old farm. They'd found it at a thrift shop. She remembered the thrill of that moment.Juliana switched on the small reading light on her bed stand. Hugging her tea glass while taking tiny sips, she let her thoughts roam. So Alec didn't want to know what she did. Did she want.
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