Turmoil Plus Sheets

It's been three weeks, Timothy and I fighting over the phone or with emails. Resolution of our affair seems hopeless at this point.

Timothy got what he wanted ... the prize he didn't get in High School. My pussy. I wanted him out of my life forever now. I was angry, crazed and unforgiving.

So, he calls again. He wants to meet me at the dog park. He must be kidding. Take the easy road. Meet in public so I can't cry. Bring the dogs so we can't go back to my place. He is really a jerk and I'm not going to listen anymore about how possessive I've been, so on and so forth because he can't justify or excuse our affair.

I send Timothy a few more mean, cursive bitchy and emails telling him to please leave me alone ... to please leave me alone.

He says he'll respect my wishes but then he keeps emailing me.

I'm starting to soften up, getting horney for him and wanton with desire for his cock inside of me.

I am willing to listen but I am still reluctant. Well, not really but I'm playing it that way. I'm going to make sure he has to work hard to win me back. He can treat me well, spoil me, and once I'm satisfied and only then, will I give him the royal treatment. My pussy.

I get another email:

"Here's your reality, Julie ... We've known each other for 30 years. I felt comfortable with you. We began chatting about easy things on a variety of topics for a while, which led to more intimate details and information. This led to discussion of intimate details I've never shared with anybody, ever. After hesitating, on July 12 we came together, largely unexpectedly, but it was an exciting time for me, and I thank you very much for it. However, it was my understanding that we would continue in any event to be friends, with no commitment, etc., and things in the aftermath were not going to change in any real way. That was what you said and what my understanding was. As of July 13 you have focused, even obsessed, on absolutely nothing but the meaning and extrapolation of that evening, even to the point of driving yourself into a seeming frenzy on several occasions. Nothing about any other aspect of your life.

The intensity of your reaction was not what I was expecting, and not in keeping with the somewhat low-key aftermath I was hoping for and expecting. In that situation it was hard to respond because in my mind you are making much, much more of things than I was intending. That was unsettling, and was the primary reason for my somewhat tentative responses. I'd like to remain friends and I'd like to see you again, but if every waking moment is going to be spent on assessing the true meaning of every romantic interlude then that's not going to be a good thing. A recent missive from you said you were thinking I'd be back with you in a just a couple days. My evenings are often full, and in any event that was not what I was expecting. You complain about me referring to Sara, but you apparently spend vast amounts of time trying to analyze her and my marriage. I told you it wasn't invited or necessary, yet you persist. I don't understand that. I think these issues need to be addressed and resolved and I'd welcome that opportunity."

I love a man who begs. What a crock. I don't want anything or is it possible to have any expectations with a married man although we've been friends for years.

I'm feeling playful. I give Timothy a call. "Hi, are you busy?" I ask.

"I'm about to see a client. What's up?" ask Timothy.

I can tell he's glad to hear from me. The playful tone in my voice indicates that I haven't given up the war, only the battle.

"I thought I'd call and talk about the weather or something," I giggle.

He laughs. "Well, as I said I'm about to see a client but it would be great to talk another time."

"Talk later then, bye."

Later that night I get a telephone call from Tim. "Do you want to go to dinner Saturday night?"

"Sure," I reply with nothing else said. "What time?"

"How about I pick you up at 7:00 p.m.?" Timothy asks.

"Seven it is," I reply. "See you then," I responded as coolly as physically possible for me. I took a deep breath. He's going to have work hard for this pussy again! Well, not that hard.

Saturday night arrives and I'm excited. I've relaxed a bit and for once I'm going to try to let nature take its course. No pressure from me. Just my cheerful, playful self. I just want to have an enjoyable evening.

Timothy doesn't go out with his wife – it's as if they're not even married.

Why should I worry about his marriage?

He's the one that has to deal with his conscience and I'm not going to rock the boat ... well, at least I'll try not to rock the boat ... till we get into fucking again I think to myself.

I put on a sexy summer dress, low-cut, sleeveless, red and purple with a seductive jagged hemline. I put on purple heels and no hose. The bra I'm wearing shows just enough cleavage. My hair looks just right still with the blond streaks for the summer. The dangling earrings set the mood.

After all, Timothy owes me an orgasm.

Well, he owes me more than that for all the stress he's caused me.

I'm thinking a night of orgasms would be nice, a great blowjob and some extra-curriculum activities. Maybe some toys.

I hear a knock at the door ...