Tonight of all nights I loathe the dinner-for-one lifestyle and glass of Chablis. Well alright, half a bottle now: needs must. No, I want to be celebrating day three-hundred-and-sixty-five since we met, lost in your kisses, your hardness sawing inside me as passion engulfs our bodies and nothing else exists for those cherished moments of connectedness. Instead, the unblinking red dot on the video camera is my only link to you, albeit not real time. We talked earlier. A racy conversation full of loaded imagery about what we'd do to one another upon my return. It was brilliant to fantasise, your baritone cadences in my ear conducting my free hand across my electrified body, first above my clothes, then under them as you brought me release. But an hour later I'm still horny. You have that effect on me. With the meetings and false promises of clients forgotten, my thoughts once more settle entirely with you. Our times together. In bed. On the living room rug in front of the fire. Over. Before she had another chance to speak his head dipped down and he silenced her with a kiss. With the encouragement of the gentle press, she opened her mouth to allow his warm tongue in. At the first stroke, she sighed. The next had her eyes fluttering closed. His tongue was like velvet and he tasted of nighttime secrets. “Doctor…” Jodi broke away, trying to grapple with the overwhelming desire that flooded her body, but he kept on nipping at her lips with his teeth. She allowed him to take her again with another kiss; this one just as passionate as the last, yet it was more gentle. Placing a hand on his chest, she was thrilled to feel his heart pounding just as hard as hers. Then she pushed him back before the kiss consumed what little thought was left. She wasn’t about to let this go any further without making certain this time. “Dr. Chapman…” Jodi opened her eyes to his ice cold ones. “My name is Lincoln,” he said, as if angered, “Say it. Lincoln.” “Lincoln,” she whispered, and.
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