When James came home that evening I again had to push some of the realities of my life into the dark corners of my heart. I was lying by omission and I had my own secret, the more I thought about it the more I thought I should tell James or leave.
I did neither and held onto my life.
Over the next couple of months James seemed to loose more and more interest in me. Things were merely cordial sometimes, as though we were nothing but friendly roommates. I think it was because of this that my correspondence with Mark became more frequent. He had written me, describing himself in many of the same ways I did. He sent along a picture as promised. He was obviously on vacation at the beach, in a Panama hat, Hawaiian shirt, and a big inviting grin on his face.
Each of his emails would make me more and more curious. After about a month we agreed to start chatting online. We were able to learn more about each other, ask questions, speak of daily events, and tease each other. I felt at ease and I believe that he did too. It never went any further than that. Although he asked, I wouldn’t even speak to him on the phone.
Then something happened that exacerbated the whole situation. I heard news from a neighbor. He told me that he had seen James with another woman, someone that he didn’t recognize in a local restaurant. From what he told me, these were on days that James had told me that he was at work or out of town.
I remained unshaken and stoic. I did not confront James, it wasn’t time yet.
At least I had a friend that I could share my feelings with. I wrote to Mark immediately. In the email I enclosed my first pictures of myself in more alluring poses. One was of me in a satin nightshirt, unbuttoned; it showed off my hard nipples and trimmed pussy quite nicely. The other was a picture of me on all fours on my bed, wearing only my black thigh high stockings. I was bold in what I told Mark I wanted in returned. I wanted to know that I still made a man hard, even want me. I explained what I had learned about James and I was at the point where I almost didn’t care anymore. It was the fact he would make a fool out of me that was bothering me the most.
Mark’s reply was sympathetic and calming. He assured me, and told me to remain calm and not do anything in anger. Then he told more of the things I really needed to hear. He told me how much both his mind and his cock delighted in the pictures I had sent. He spoke of his cock twitching for me, wanting me. He continued by telling me in detail the things he would do to my body to make me beg for him inside me. Just the descriptions of the different kisses had my entire body in heat. Passionate kisses on my mouth and lips, lighter kisses on my ears, nibbling kisses on my neck, suckling kisses on my tits, almost airy kisses on my stomach and arms, quick kisses on my thighs, and of course, the special gentle kisses used to explore my pussy.
Just the descriptions of his kisses made me want to spread myself naked on my bed for him and allow him anything he wanted. I would give him anything he needed. I told him so in my reply.
I finished off on a philosophical, rather than carnal note:
I'm tired of denials.I know what I wanted to do next, but I wanted to be sure, I wanted to hear the same from Mark. This time I waited, patient as always.
I'm tired of mind games I'm playing with myself.
I’m tired of starting sentences with 'forgive me'...all of that is bullshit
I'm not telling you many things you don't already know, now am I?