Mary's sixth day In India was going to be her first day of teaching. She had written a letter to her parents, saying how wonderful it was to be in Ame...ica (she cleverly wrote a return address with a fake America address). She sealed her letter and was going to drop it off on her way to class. She had the letter in hand and a bag of teaching supplies in a bag slung around her shoulder. Mary left her apartment, locking the door behind her. Mary walked to the receptionist of her apartment. I needed that permission. I craved that permission.Although I am an experienced lover, I have not abandoned myself to the depth and the darkness that I know exists in woman. I feel it like a smouldering dormant volcano inside of me. It writhes and coils when I am involved in a seduction, then at the moment of consummation, I feel the fear that results in restraint that most women experience sometimes, or all of the time. Then I give myself to my lover in a submissive willingness that is a lie. More

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