As you know, this isn't the first letter I write to you, even in a week when my life seems to have turned around for the better. The last letter still folded on itself sitting on my dresser, one that I will give you, showed my gracious side to the one who really helped me in my time of need.
No, this, I'm afraid this is a bit more visceral. Even for this blog.
So perhaps its ironic that our olfactory sense was a running theme this weekend. A visit to the mall, trying on cologne earlier today. Then when I arrived home, making a decision to write this post. I had seen you just three hours since. My normal solitude greeted me as I opened the door to my apartment. Exhausted from today's social activity, I sit on my couch, too weary to do anything else. The smell of your cologne still lingers on my couch and in the room.
I close my eyes, drawing images from my kinetic memory of our bodies intermingling from our wanton lust. Our lips our tongues hungering to taste each other despite the fact our weekly visits have not waned. Your strong hands sending shivers down my spine as your run your fingers down my side. We both hold each other as if the bottom will fall any moment. And in that instance, it does, for me the movements of our bodies ceases time and space. As we reach the crescendo of our coupling we live in the present, ignoring propriety or (possibly) annoyance of our neighbors. Only thing that matters is that your cock explore the depths of my sex to find ever increasing heights of pleasure.
We joke about how tempered we are in our activities, in both social and sexual sense. How, in our singlehood, we both prefer our quiet mundane life. But as you mentioned, we submit to our sexual needs with frequency and fervency that most people would envy. And I find myself smiling at inappropriate times of the day because a lingering memories of our time together asserts itself.
So I sit here on the couch, savoring the smell of your fading cologne, letting my mind and body wander. For I will I have to get up and make dinner, feed my cat, clean the kitchen. Before the night breezes dissipate what was left of last night.
