Almost fully awake, it’s the smells that remained: memories of soaps, body lotions, and perfume. They haunt me.Dad dedicated himself to being a great father like some clergy dedicate themselves to God. My well-being was paramount; my interests became his new hobbies. Sometime in my early teenage years, I started to wonder how much of that was for me and how much was to prove my mother wrong. She’d never know, of course, but he would. Dad’s efforts were successful. I couldn’t imagine a better father. Looking back on my childhood with some distance I was able to see that all the mountains in my life were actually small hills, and all of our huge battles were nothing compared to what my friends went through.I’d have dreams about Dad as well. It was the three of us, together again. We were in a large dark room with wooden floors. A spotlight shone down on us as we were dressed in what a child considered finery. The music would start, and Mom would take a step backwards. Standing on Dad’s. ” I broke our kiss and began kissing her face, and earlobes and moved down to her delicate neck. I inhaled her sweet scent, as I tongued her neck and then blew cool air over it to make her body shudder. I had committed each of her special spots to memory and was thrilled to actually be able to see her reaction in the flesh. “I am going to have so much fun with you today, Cass,” I spoke in a husky voice. I moved my hands up too her chest and began to kneed her breast between my finger tips. I wanted to trace and touch each and every one of her body parts and commit them to memory, because I still felt like this was a fantasy and I would wake up soon. She moaned at my touch and started to kiss my cheeks, nose, forehead and finally back to my waiting lips. She slide her tongue in my mouth and I moaned as her tongue caressed my own. She then broke our kiss and grabbed the corkscrew, “Lets have some wine,” she said as she moved from me and back to the living area where she sat on the couch.
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