He loves tasting her. He needs to taste her more. He wants to share her taste.Alan’s eyes scan the road ahead, quickly finding a gap in the line of trees, a break in them. He slows the car and pulls off the road into that small clearing. Looking around he sees that it is the perfect spot, nicely hidden but still able to see the entire road both ways. It would make a good place for a cop to hide and make a speed trap. He doesn’t doubt that that is what it is used for. Sandy seems antsy, and he knows why.Cutting off the car, he leans over taking both sides of her face in his hands. The man presses his mouth to hers. By now Sandy knows exactly what to do and they are well practiced. Their tongue lap and dance to and fro between one another’s mouths. This moment is about them as if they are the only ones on the road. And while technically they are, it feels as if they are the last human and dog left in the world. Nothing really matters for Alan except Sandy ... and maybe mother ... He. Be careful who you let... oh you know.Love,JonelleLaura's hands were shaking by the end. Her own eyes blurred with tears. And worst of all, she could feel herself getting wet as she read it. She hated herself for that, for being so sexual, for letting lust interfere with her deep, pure, true longing for Jonelle.And yet, even Jonelle had referred to it in her letter, which Laura read about fifty times before dinner. Jonelle had said she remembered their moments together. All of them. That told Laura she remembered every kiss, every touch, every orgasm. And Laura remembered each one too, there had been so few.Her first thought was, God, I've got to fly to Dallas and just search until I find her! But her common sense told her that would not work. There were a thousand barriers to finding Jonelle, and Laura couldn't just leave her job, either. But neither could she give up the hope of seeing her again. After all, Jonelle had written She said she loves me, Laura thought. She didn't have.
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