A Letter To My Problematic Lover
I don’t know if this is going to work. I have so many reservations about continuing this whole… what would you even call it? Relationship is hardly the right word for what we have. I’m tired and I miss you, and I often think that we would be better off just dropping this whole thing. But then that night in the Poconos comes back to me and I’m a sucker for the tingly memories that it brings back.
It was so freakin’ cold up in that cabin and your inept fire building left much to be desired. But in that pile of blankets in front of the fireplace, we managed to stay warm and peel back the layers of our thermals to get to each other’s skin. I think that was the first time that I saw that tattoo on your thigh and I remember licking it, teasing you, while your cock throbbed next to my face. I’m really not that good at teasing, normally, but you seemed to inspire it in me somehow. I wanted to prolong each moment that we had so desperately!
Do you remember what you said to me when I kept circling the tip of your cock with my tongue and tasting the drops of pre-cum that accumulated at the slit? I don’t imagine that you do, it was just a line, but it had stuck in my head. I automatically remember it whenever I remember you. I remember your taste too and how it filled my mouth. I remember the silky feel of your cum as it ran down my chin. And that way that you scooped it…
