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‘I guess I’m OK. I work, I sleep, sometimes I read a little.’ That was all there was. No greeting, no closing, no hint of warmth, nothing personal at all. He felt like an annoying stranger, or a pest dismissed. He felt wounded and abandoned. He wrote back, in a tone of deep hurt and black depression: ‘It’s been six weeks since I’ve heard from you, and now you hand me this?!? I check my inbox twenty times a day, hoping for a kind word or a bit of contact, and for weeks on end you send me nothing. And now, this? This two-line note that you wouldn’t send a stranger? ‘You know how I feel about you. You are the center of my life and the only person on God’s Earth I love or ever will. All I ask is maybe five minutes a week, Carol. Five damn minutes that you could take to send me a fucking email that has a little warmth to it and might bring a little light into my life. You know how dark and cold it is without you. You say you are my friend and care about me, but you can’t even give me. I would have done anything he asked in order to please him, knowing he would never take advantage of that submission. He pushed me back onto the bed. Moving between my open thighs, he stroked his hard cock against my dripping pussy and plunged inside me in one swift motion. I wondered if I would ever tire of him, of the pleasure he brought. At that moment, I thought I never would. He wrapped around me, arms on either side of my head, hands in my hair. Holding me close, we were one. Our eyes met, our souls connected, and I slung my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and pulled him closer. Soon, I was panting, heading toward another orgasm. “You’re going to make me cum again,” I gasped, pulling him even tighter to me. I needed us to be as close as possible. I wanted to feel every inch of him against me, in me. I wanted to feel his body quiver with the same need I felt. And it did. With my fingers entwined in his hair, I came loudly and drew his mouth to mine. I.
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