I knew my purple velvet sofa with the fringe could work a miracle-if only I could get him on it.  He walked over after lunch and nonchalantly sat down.  He didn't know it was hot wired to my vagina growing looser by the second.   He was staring at my skin above the scoop-necked dress, and he suddenly reached over while we were discussing BEING DIGITAL and touched me on the shoulder at the seam of skin and fabric.  With two fingers, he traced the outline of the neck as he continued to talk about zeros and ones.  I was stunned.