“Dear Michel, I’ve been trying to contain myself, but something you wrote last week has really stuck in my craw (to use a rather colloquial expression). You were right that you had upset me. The phrase that is currently stuck in my head is “I’m not your type.” Not exactly high praise… That sentiment had certainly taken away some of the pleasure I normally get from thinking of you, at least temporarily. But…
I met my best friend for tea tonight. She has struggled mightily with her own marriage over the last few years. She knows about my prior affair and now she knows about you. She yearns also to have an affair (especially since she has learned of the joy that my own experiences have brought me). She and a co-‐worker have been flirting for some time and she longs to take the plunge with him, but he keeps holding her at arm's length. We spent quite a bit of time discussing affairs and it confirmed for me just how lucky I am to have connected with you. So know that I will try very, very hard to keep you close. This relationship is too precious for us to squander. This is what puts the spring in our steps and the smiles on our faces, even if we shed the occasional tear. A moment of revelation for me. I will not let you go gently. You complete me, Michel. Your hands and your body know me even before we ever enter the same room.
I can appreciate your pain and your doubt, but I can no longer share it (how is that for turning the tables on you?) And yes, you are the man for me. Remember how you knew exactly where you would first touch me (and that it would be my choice also?) How you knew how I love to be taken from behind (before I ever shared that with you?) How we share a love of ceremony and ritual?
I have never had any doubts that you will be a wonderful lover, a lover unlike the other men in my lives. Your doubts today about your own ability to satisfy me are unsubstantiated. Our coming together will be magical, and I am certain that it will take place in the near future. My friend and I made a pact tonight to provide an alibi for each other when the time comes for us to meet our lovers. So you see, our meeting is destined to happen. And we will never regret the experience. I cherish the thought of bringing you to exquisite orgasm over and over again. Your strong, youthful cock will be well taken care of.
There are many stories yet to be written, Michel. Some have already been started, such as the hotel elevator (one of the "Easy Pieces"). I am not yet done with the cabin series and of course, we have not even begun to discuss the Kama Sutra (and certainly, I would like to experiment with you with some of those positions!) Please let me care for you as only I can.
I wish to renew with the passionate threads that have made up our relationship up until now. There are still promises made that are un-‐kept, places that you must take me. If you are willing to share, I would love to hear more about your early sexual experiences. You know that I am quite the voyeur myself. For now I hope to dream about spending time with you on a hot, deserted beach on some faraway island, where I will summon all of my feminine wiles to satisfy your every desire… Yes, you too can dream!
Carpe diem, my darling.
Yours always,
Catherine”
These words provided deep relief to Michel when he read them the next day: the rhythm of their conversations and message exchanges was ill-‐suited for the quick resorbing of moments of doubt.
“Dear Catherine, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart for overcoming the pain that I involuntarily caused you in our last conversation. Yes, I too can dream and do. That you would mention un-‐kept promises and the beach made me remember one such unfinished piece of business. I trust you won't mind if I continue a list you once gave me...
Aftershocks: The vivid echoes -‐ Of our glorious exchanges -‐ But now from within Petal by petal: Thus opens the bloom -‐ And to the humble pilgrim -‐ Beauty is revealed Crescendo: The beat of my heart -‐ When I start thinking of you -‐ Is always faster Probe: A gentle caress -‐ Is becoming persistent -‐ Looking for more
Yours always,
Michel”
Once again, Catherine was transported by Michel’s poetry and by the immediacy with which his words penetrated her, creating a whirlwind of emotions and sensations in her mind and body. When she read his words she felt alive and beautiful, young and full of desire. She decided to reveal a little more of herself in her next missive. She prepared herself to write a message then decided to have a prelude which quickly became part of the main.
“Dearest Michel, I am finally ready for a little relaxation after what has turned out to be an unnerving few days. My husband and I made love last night and although it was enjoyable, I did not achieve orgasm. And so I am more than ready to spend time pleasuring myself. I have put on a CD of Indian (Asian) music that a friend had burned for me long ago and inserted batteries into my vibrator. My husband is aware that I have one, but has never expressed any interest. He is not one for toys or props.
I am barefoot but otherwise dressed. My pants are unzipped and my left hand periodically leaves the keyboard to slip under my blouse and graze my right breast. My thumb wiggles its way beneath my bra to play with my now erect nipple. I stand and let my slacks and panties drop to the floor. It feels very naughty to sit here bare-‐ bottomed and aroused. My fingers again halt and press against my pussy lips. Perhaps I should call your work number and leave a message right now. How would it feel to be greeted on Monday morning by a message like that?
I must leave you for a short time, as my body is aching to have my fingers play with my clit. I will be back….”
A few minutes later, she concluded with a second message. “My face is flushed and my body is oh, so warm. Open and ready to receive your cock. When the orgasm came, I was consumed with thoughts of your strong, erect cock. I yearn for you, Michel. But now, I am on my way to Mass. How is that for multi-‐tasking?
Yours,
Catherine”
His response came quickly.
“Sweet Catherine,
Just a quick word, as I have but a few minutes, to say that the vibrator elicits much reaction from me. Feel free to tell me more. I will expound on the topic at length later. Hosannah in excelsis, benedictus qui venit in nomine amoris. Sum tecum, amor meus.
Yours quite erect,
Michel”
“Dearest Michel,
OK, you've got me here. So you are a Latin scholar also? But of course. What is 'sum tecum'?
Did you know that I am still a practicing Catholic? That's right -‐ Mass almost every weekend, Minister of Communion as well. Some habits are hard to break. As for the vibrator, I got so caught up in the moment that I forgot to use it! It is now back in its hiding place. I'm glad that it piques your interest. Perhaps you will be able to hear me using it as we speak next time we are on the phone. How would that make you feel?
I discovered a few things in college, just before I got married, during a three month flin
g with a bad boy on campus. Just imagine how powerful it must have been for me when I was introduced to such things as cigarettes, pot, vibrator, bondage....the list goes on. The very first time I uttered words such as cock, cunt, fuck, pussy, learning to express my desires. What a Pandora's box he opened. I mention these things only to help you understand where I have come from. There are many shocking stories to tell, but I will not go there unless you are interested: indeed what seems shocking to a proper catholic girl may not seem shocking to you.
In case you have not been able to discern this, I am lonely and missing you. On a day when I am free to talk, you are not. I will look forward to your reply. Your devoted servant,
Catherine”
“Sweet Catherine,
I was the beneficiary of a very classical education, including eight years of Latin and six of Greek... That was my rendition of I am with you. And I am. If it may console you, loneliness is not emptiness. I feel lonely at times, but my heart is full.
I did imagine you were still a practicing Catholic since those who have abandoned the Church are usually pretty vocal about it, if they speak of religion at all. That you would help dispense the body of Christ is unexpected, but then part of your image indeed, is it not? I cherish your fascination for the sacred and the ceremonial, just as I cherish the you that is able to say 'fuck', 'cunt' et al. I am fascinated by the transformation that your college fling was instrumental in unleashing. Part of this is wanting to know you. Part is voyeurism. Part is academic almost. But I am not concerned as to why. I feel that you need someone to tell this to and not only am I the only one who could possibly understand any of it, but more importantly, I am more than willing to listen. In lieu of being able to take you myself, any description of something going into your pussy, whether your fingers, a vibrator or another man, will turn me on. You are adept at presenting me with a balance of narratives that is quite pleasing.
But ‘tis late, these few lines have taken longer to write than I expected and I must do something about that bulge in my pants before I go to bed, I'm afraid. Good morning then, dearest, and know that I have dreamt of you this night. Yours always,
Michel”
The masturbation that followed brought an intense orgasm to Michel, one that required fairly little work to achieve, one that involved not just a release of semen and pleasure but also a release of stress. The malaise that had evidently just ended had brought a number of aspects of their relationship to the fore for Michel, not least of which was the clarity of his feelings towards the at once tenuous and precious nature of the bond that united them. His quest for pleasure, while enduring, was not meant to be overwhelming and was not that of a reckless hedonist enthralled into addiction by a constant need for pleasures unknown, quite on the contrary. He believed in finding the pleasure within one’s life, and though this did imply a willingness to be open to new ideas and relationships, as was evidenced by his affair with Catherine, the main tenet of that approach was underscored by the repugnance he felt toward the phrase “you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone”: always know the good things that you have; never let a good moment go by without knowing it is a good moment. But while freedom can enhance or even bring pleasure it is not always congruent with the fostering of shared delights. And while his affair with Catherine gave rise to an unparalleled sense of freedom to be himself and reflect unfettered on life and love, it was only a sense and as in any relationship between two beings the boundaries of freedom are self-‐imposed in the discovery of the feelings and needs of the other. If he had imagined that a relationship based in intimacy was congruent with total freedom it had been out of an arrogance for which he was now sorry. He knew himself to be a snob in many ways, a by-‐product of a very bourgeois education which he had at one point in his late adolescence decided to embrace rather than combat but under the strict agreement with himself that he should endeavor to never be arrogant. The repeated failures of this ongoing endeavor served as reminders of what he felt was an irremediable inability to be a truly gentle man. Catherine knew nothing of arrogance and was gentle as most men cannot.
He called her the next evening, and they spoke for over an hour. She made him smile, he made her laugh, and while their conversation remained fairly chaste, the sexual tension was clearly being ratcheted up. She told him of her youthful indiscretions and asked him about his, though he had little to answer to that. Her own restricted upbringing had left her eager for conversation about subjects which had for her always been labeled "forbidden": female organs were typically referred to as "down below". She recalled for him the story of her first orgasm in the back seat of a Mustang, something that remained for her a wonderful memory.
“Dearest Michel, It is unbelievable how time flies when I am talking to you or reading your words. It is quite paradoxical that the more we speak, the greater the desire I have to continue the conversation. How near you felt to me. Almost as though I could reach out and touch you.
Yours,
Catherine”
“Dearest Catherine,
my desire for you is long lasting and deep. Our relationship will continue for many months. Last night was magical. There always comes a point in our conversations where I find myself awash in gentle warmth and all is calm and voluptuous, a luxury of the senses and the mind.
It gives me great pride that you have the trust in me that you do.
Your humble servant,
Michel”
The mildness of the response slightly annoyed Catherine which in turn made her realize that this was perhaps her cue.
“Dear Michel, I look forward to arriving each day to your message, and I hope the same is true for you. Our stories are rich with imagery and pageantry. I think that is one of the reasons why we are so polite in expressing our appreciation to each other. I imagine a Japanese tea ceremony where it is of the utmost importance to follow the rites and rituals. I realize that you are being careful not to jostle me too much after my moment of anxiety last week, but I am feeling the need to take things up a notch. Perhaps it is the heat of the summer sun, combined with the intriguing topics of conversation and the titillation of this somewhat forbidden communication. Anyway, you said you would look to me for direction and here it is. I hope that you will stay by my side as we continue to explore...
I take your hand to lead you in from the garden. Up the stairs to the deck and then into the porch. Floor-‐to-‐ceiling windows surround us with some partial screening from large evergreens. A fan circles lazily overhead. I invite you to be seated in one of the cushioned chairs and pour you a glass of champagne from the bottle which is chilling nearby. I ask if you are comfortable; I want to see to your every need. After sipping from my own glass, I stand before you and drop my robe, revealing myself to your hungry eyes. Silently, you gesture with your hand, signaling th
at I am to turn slowly for your inspection. I can tell that you are pleased and also that you are aroused. Seeing your erect member ignites the fire in my own belly. I kneel before you and draw aside your own robe. Your phallus stands at attention, yearning for my touch. I bend my head down until my lips hover near its tip. I breathe in your musky scent. Your phallus, with a life of its own, extends a little further until it brushes my lips. I open them wide and pause just a moment before taking all of your length into my mouth. Your hand cradles and guides my head as I slowly begin pleasuring you.
Yours, Catherine” Reading such prose had on Michel the desired effect. Catherine’s every message was a gift to him and he reveled in her prose, allowing her every word to resonate with his deepest longings, his passions and indeed his very manhood. His only necessity was to respond in kind.
“Dear Catherine, sweet mistress, When we are together I am Man, sum homo, made whole with humanity, those who came before and those yet to come and take their place where you and I once stood. You are my anima and by permeating my soul you elevate it.
When I am in your hands, I am a man, sum vir, made one with myself, willing to take what is mine to take and is willingly offered, eager to give what is mine to give and is eagerly received.
What you and I share has been lived many times, throughout time and in all lands. We are archetypes of something deeply human, you and I. It is like people who inhabit the alcoves of that softly lit room in the Canadian manor, our brothers and sisters. We are creatures who have tasted the breath of life that emanates when two stories collide for the sole purpose of passionate abandon.
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