A Wrestling Prelude to Pleasure

She rose slowly, putting a finger again on my mouth so as not to speak, and then gave me a long, languorous kiss, my sperm on her breath, and just as silently as she had entered, she left the room.

I drifted off back to sleep, my groin with that wonderful warm, overworked fatigue that comes with a good climax.

Up early the next morning, a quick workmanlike breakfast with the two of them, a gathering of my belongings and a quick goodbye to Lisa, she showing no signs of her nocturnal visit, and Rick delivered me easy as pie to the airport.

It was not until after I had gone through security, gotten myself some coffee and was sorting through my carry-on luggage when I noticed a bulge in one of my laptop carrier's unused pouches. I unzipped it to find a red thong with a note attached.

Involuntarily, I sniffed the thong, and it could not have come from anyone else but Lisa. The smell reminded me of where my cock had been the afternoon before and my penis twitched in pleasure. Then remembering where I was, I looked around in alarm to see if anyone had noticed what I had just done.

"My dear John," went the note. "Splendid weekend, many thanks for the memories. Do look us up if you are ever back in Melbourne. Please accept this with my regards. Kisses, Lisa." She must have secreted it in my bag during the night before wakening me. It had her email and other contact info.

I gazed off in the distance and made promises in my head to comply.