So I reached down and took hold ofhim. He was not quite so hard, not quite so large, butI was guessing the phone had interrupted him, andnothing kills...an erection like almost getting caught.So I gave him a couple dry strokes, and then spit in myhand for lube. He liked that.“Can I touch you as you’re touching me?”“Sure.” I spread my legs a little and let him fondlethe front of my pants. He didn’t stroke me or squeezeme, and I didn’t get hard from any of. I did use you like a con artist. I displayed the maturity of a ten-year-old. I played with your affections for my own amusement. And you deserved far better than that.There is a part of me that wishes you had not acted so hastily at the very end; that perhaps you might have given me another chance to tell you what was really on my mind. But my actions at the time, and leading up to it as well, negated any right I may have had to expect a second chance. In retrospect, I don't blame you for your. More

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