Poveștile mele lesbiene pasionale

So I move, I nearly jump out of skin, but then stand still, paying the voice that had appeared behind me.

Feel the pounding in my frantic heart, and I feel she can hear it too.

I realize that I've dropped my grocery bags, and have spilled their contents onto the floor.

My whole body is alert, and my senses more receptive than ever, and I know I heard something break.

Perhaps a bottle of white wine I'd bought for dinner, or the jar of sundried tomatoes.