Supporting her back, I brought the glass to her lips. She moistened them, and glanced at me. I waited as she sipped some more water, then lowered her ...ently down again. “Do you really care for me,” she said. “No, I just want to fuck you,” I said nervously. Her good eye filled with amusement, the other remained disturbingly dead. “There is something appealing about you,” she said. “My mother used to say the same thing,” I said with a smile. “What’s your name?” she asked. “Peter.” “I am. One short note led to another, to a full blown correspondence. Sometimes these things take on a life of their own, coy changes to chat, changes to comfortably saucy. Believe me when I say saucy; and that's where it might all have stayed. We each knew where the other lived and while not at opposite ends of the country it was far enough away to have have been just that.Then in a telephone chat - did I mention the telephone chats? Sorry - I should have done - comfortable - damn! I've used that. More

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