When I used to jaunt on occupation I would occasionally post an ad in the Craigs List Men-for-Women section. It was mostly a way to kill sentence while was alone in a hotel way. I 'd indite something fun, like `` babe Oil, Wine & Hot Tub - What Could Be Better ? '' The body of the post would be well written, in perfect condemnation, with proper punctuation mark. If you ever looked at CL listings, these basic timber made the ad stand out from the normal `` HMU 2 F $ # @ '' type fare.

As an one-time blanched guy ( just over 50 when I posted this particular ad ), it 's not wish my in-box got flooded. The reaction were mostly from Russian gouger, woman of the street, and drug addicts. Depending on how bored I was, I 'd flex the tabular array on the scammers, be nice to the hooker, and show the addicts toward local treatment centers.

Occasionally, I 'd get a hit from a real, unfeigned homo being. Most email were guys offering nose candy jobs. Once in a blue moon, a cleaning lady would respond.

One day, I received a confidently written reception that did n't have the English-as-second-language clues that revealed a foreign scammer. The banknote simply answered my query about `` what could be better. '' The cleaning woman whom I would do to know as Madison wrote, `` deep brown would be better. '' Opinionated I thought. I like strong char. In addition to the subject production line declarative mood, she wrote only these words, `` Are you undivided ? ''

Opinionated, laconic and moral.

My response did n't lie, but I agreed with her assessment, then offered dark deep brown along with a physical structure rub. She responded, `` Well, I am adamant, so I do n't guess you can shift my intellect, although you may be able to seduce my mind. Strong, masculine script on my balmy, passably body is so enticing and intoxicating. I could use a body rub ... I have been working really hard on my dissertation and am quite fatigued. I wish I could amount. : ( I am just very serious about respecting other charwoman and their relationships, even if I do n't get it on them. ``

The extra detail in her note revealed a deepening oddment. Expecting nothing to a greater extent than e-mails - which I knew would end if I offended her or she simply lost interest - I pressed on just for fun. Plus, because I live my work life at a keyboard creating stories for a support, it was a welcome beguilement from my regular biography, and offered Hope for the perpetual hole I felt in my heart about longing to be with a woman who wanted to be with me ( the reason I did n't just employ a call girl ).

Soon we exchanged photograph. I knew she was in college ( the thesis tipped me off ), so when she saw the real 50-something me, I figured it 'd be over. It wasn't.

She wrote, `` I really feel accommodate to say that if you are really trying to get me to meet then you will not succeed. I just do n't want you to run off your time. I really do conceive it is improper to be with individual who is married or in a relationship, and I am very conscientious about that.

'' But I do really like your photos though. You look smart and bountiful in the best way possible. You are definitely a good bit old than me but very much my type physically speaking with your hair and skin. You 're endearing. I love it. : ) Very sexy. And seeing your strong hands makes me want you to give me a thigh massage.

'' As for me, I am 22. I am writing my undergraduate, aged thesis on The Plague by Albert Camus. I am single. I love spoken communication, especially Latin and Ancient Greek. I spent a month in Italy hold up summer ; I love to locomote. I enjoy baking bread. I love the symphony and the opera. And I love to eat. : )

'' What do you suppose of my exposure ? ``

Oh my. What did I think ? I was looking at a college girl who was flirting with me ! My feelings raced from mental rejection to being flattered, excited, enchanted and seriously aroused.

Madison exuded the girl-next-door smell with medium Robert Brown hair that hung past her articulatio humeri. Even though the photograph was not at all revealing, she had beautiful womanly curves. imagine a definitive Rubenesque good example minus 20 pounds and you 're picturing James Madison. Her sparkling eye and welcoming grin were simply, well, just pretty. Melt-me cute. And pure.

Of class, she was not completely pure. Like me, like everyone who pursues what they need but ca n't get through normal groove, Madison was n't totally clean-handed. Like me, she had started down a shadowy path of her own. Fortunately, somehow we 'd met.

My business concern design put me in the Southern metropolis near her college in the dead of wintertime. Our e-mails took on an importunity because the opportunity to meet was ours to miss. I suggested coffee. Her response revealed a longing. `` Of course, I am curious about what it would be like to be with you. I ca n't say that I was n't fantasizing a little in my morning social class about your bridge player on my second joint. Honestly, I wish I could go with you to dinner tonight, but I do n't have a way to get there. It has been about a year since I have been with a man who knew something about build up and prolonged passion. It is something I love and something that takes me to ecstasy, and something about which many men know practically zero. I would love a buildup of intensity tonight.

'' If I went even to dinner with you, I think that I would want you to make at least a short love to me, but since I wo n't let that find since you are attached, it would just be torture for me. I ca n't turn back wishing you were single ! But I just ca n't go against my sense of right and wrong. I want buss on my neck and ear. I dislike this inner struggle. : ( ``

Driven by the abstruse motive to satisfy my heart, I rationalized the situation in a note back to her, `` To put thing into position, you 'll likely do speculative things in your life than see me. At to the lowest degree if you see me, there 's a marvellous upper side. Some things are worth it. The reality of how I could induce you feel : Worth it. The memories of what we 've shared. Worth it. The escapade. Worth it. ``

I did not assure her that for me, the assignation would reincarnate my strength to outride in my externally perfect union that was otherwise killing me ... slowly sucking the cacoethes and Energy Department from my mortal due to my wife 's emotional and physical disinterest. Being with Madison took on spare urgency as I realized she could be so deeply important to me at a level she could n't possibly understand.

Madison resisted and resisted until she did n't. Dozens of e-mails tracked the moral struggle. Either of us could ingest walked away. Neither did.

We 'd correspond to converge at a wine-coloured bar for dinner. I got there a bit early and ordered a Riesling. Then a second. I 'd positioned myself in the very back of the eating place, faced so I could see the doorway. Madison arrived. She was prettier than her photograph, and I had n't realized how tall she was, at to the lowest degree 5'8 ''. She did n't see me, so I stood up and walked to greet her. We paused for a moment, eye to eye, my hands in front of me to gently welcome her by taking her 's and leading her to our table. It was going to be a nice evening.

Still to this moment I ca n't come back the dress she was wearing, except that had a modestly abstruse neckline with a lace up feature article. I did my skillful to keep my middle on hers, but her plentiful breasts made for the most beautiful cleavage.

We talked for a patch, noshed on some great food, drank a fiddling ( more ) wine-colored, and then Madison announced she needed to go. It was n't former, but I knew she was working on her thesis, and I did n't want to encroach on her studies.

being that it was truly freezing out ( below 32° ), I asked if she 'd mind driving me back to my hotel. She agreed. As we walked to her car, she sheepishly admitted she 'd bury where she parked. Then she realized she did n't own cash to pay the parking fee. I found this so wizard and innocent.

Perhaps as a life sentence metaphor regarding motivation, as we were walking, she shivered. I put my arm around her and turned up the leash on her fleece coat. She 'd never known you could do that ! I guess when Georgia is your home, what comes naturally to those who grew up in the frozen Mid-West would n't be bit nature. Then she slipped on some ice. I instinctively caught her. That moment it was Madison who melted a little. I kept her warm and safety that walk.

The dinner party and walk surprisingly revealed, that despite our age difference, we clicked. Our personalities and deep-seated motivation meshed in a way I still do n't sympathise. This young lady with whom I was walking was so vernal, reasonably, impudent and vivacious that I did n't want her to go. I told her I 'd wish some desert. She coyly asked, `` What are you hungry for ? '' Chocolate was the only conquer verbal solution, although my middle said otherwise. I casually noted, as if by concurrence, that I had dark deep brown in my room. As we pulled into my hotel, she was the one to evoke that she 'd like to come up.

You could feature knocked me over with a feather. Never in a million years.

As for what happened side by side, James Madison 's journal entree puts it in her Bible. She sent the quarrel below in an email. This is what she wrote in her diary. The action picks up after she gets into her friend 's borrowed car and drives away from the university :

'' lamb Journal, I decided to go and meet him. The tension within myself was too corking for me to bear, so I had to go. I think our e-mail exchanges made coming together that much more exciting. I did not put much care into my underthings when getting ready as I had no theme of what was to come. But I put on my royal bluish silk attire. It is one of my dearie dresses. It is a soft, amercement 100 % silk wearing apparel and it makes men want to put their arms around me. It is delightfully and teasingly low cut although it shows but a glimpse of segmentation. It is a very classy dress. It ties above the white meat ; I like to fancy that when men see it they just want to untie it and start kissing me. I curled my hair's-breadth and put on light constitution as well as my rose oil perfume. In my very humiliate but very accurate opinion, I looked lovely.

'' I drove to the city, and I felt a little nervous as I walked to establishment. It turned out to be the gross lieu for our rendezvous. I like to imagine how we looked that evening, all dressed up and wide-cut of desire. I walked in, and I did not see anyone. I thought he would be sitting next to the threshold watching for me. I felt a small stab of dismay as I looked about and did not see him. But after a few second gear, he stood up and I caught pile of him. He was sitting in the vertebral column ; I walked to him, and the consequence I saw him I knew it was going to be a endearing, romantic eventide. People most often look more attractive in photo than in real life story. But it was the opposite with him. He was so handsome. He was definitely quite a bit erstwhile than I was, but the age difference did not experience too articulate. I felt that we were on the same wavelength. I wonder what were his thoughts when he first saw me. He wears glasses. I love trash on a man. He was wearing a sweater that looked to be very soft and a silk tie. He has very good taste and seemed Edward Young at nerve. When I approached him, he welcomed me with an embrace and kissed me on the cheek. My heart began to flutter and to melt a little. It was so romanticistic and made me feel so womanly. I wish I could have played that scene again and again. I loved him kissing me on the cheek upon meeting me. He is such a quixotic, gentlemanly man. He helped me out of my coat and pulled out my chair for me to sit down. He is absolutely my type physically and intellectually. I loved his voice and his style of dress. I loved his taste in food.

'' He sat down, and we conversed a little before the waitress came over. I ordered a Pinor Noir ; he already had his wine-colored. I was surprised that he preferred Edward D. White wine. With his romantic, sensual personality, I would give thought that he would prefer a dark, sultry red. One thing that I found irresistibly attractive about him was his lexicon. to the highest degree men ( indeed most modern people ) have a very restrict vocabulary, because people do n't show often and position vigil cheap tv. I have a fairly expansive vocabulary because I study Latin and Greek and because I read a lot. But I love that he used row like `` egregious '' and `` pastoral. '' I thought it was very sexy.

'' We had a most pleasant conversation. We talked about traveling. I talked about my school and work, and he told me about his work. The tension between us was palpable. I loved it. I caught him looking at my titty twice, and it made my heart get a little faster. But he did not look at them in a crass way but rather in an admiring way. I wondered what he was thinking when he looked. Was he wondering how soft but firm they would feel under his touch sensation ? Was he wanting to kiss them softly ? Was he wondering what my nipples looked like ?

'' The ambience of the restaurant was gross. I have only been able to drink legally for a piffling over a yr, so I still feel the gaud of meeting somebody for a spyglass of wine. It was pleasantly dim inside and the music was pure. Norah Jones and Frank Sinatra were playing as well as other such artists. I just love the latent hostility between man and fair sex. I knew that both of us were full of desire but I love the tension before the desire is played out. I knew that he was pursuing me, and I loved it. I loved how wild-eyed he was. He had a fantastical grinning too ; it was very contractable. Oh and his script. His manus were incredibly sexy. I do n't hump why, but I could not halt looking at them. They were so sexy. They looked so strong. I kept trying to continue myself from imagining them massaging my tit and kneading my thighs. Them sliding up my inner second joint and spreading my stage apart. Imagining his fingerbreadth sliding into the sinister wetness of my flower ... His handwriting were intoxicating. It did n't assist when he got up to use the public lavatory and as he walked behind me he put his rightfulness hand on my speed right on arm. My affectionateness fluttered, and I reveled in the mellisonant impression of desire and rousing that was blossoming inside me. I knew he was trying me to see what would happen, and I soaked up every second of it. I kept thinking about that simple tinge. When he came back, he pulled his chair closer to mine, and I felt the gist of that between my pegleg. Our faces got quite close at time. I ca n't say that I did n't opine his sassing on the sassing of my flower and his sass enclosing my nipples inside it.

'' He said, `` How does it feel to have somebody sitting so close to you who wants to make love to you ? '' I said something to the outcome that it happens not infrequently. He said he was not surprised. He stopped a little a one point and said something quietly. I asked him to replicate himself, and he said, `` You 're just so pretty. '' I felt a little bashful at such open wonder, but I also felt so attractive under his regard. Another clock time, after I caught him casting a stealthy glance at my titty, he said it again. `` You 're just so pretty. '' I loved that whole dinner party. It felt so sensual and amorous. He kept looking at me with such depth in his eyes. He would gaze at me for quite a long fourth dimension, and I would experience a little shy.

'' But my thought process were not just intimate to be sure. I loved the romance of it. I loved how intelligent and well-traveled he was. And he paid for the meal which is very attractive. I had the urge to put my hired man on the table and let him take it and stroke it, but I resisted the urge. He definitely was very attractive to me intellectually. He seemed to hold knowledge in a wide variety of areas. I just felt drawn to him like a attracter. I tried not to show it of trend. I wanted him to follow up on, not me. He looked at me in a very attract and admire fashion. I am sure that I blushed a niggling at least. Oh his hands. I kept thinking about him slipping his arm around my waist. And about his hands going dangerously low.

'' When we stood up, he helped me into my coat and after it was on, he put his men on my waistline and again I felt a warm, familiar curling sensation between my legs. We walked out ; I even love even the way he walks with so much confidence. We got out and it was so inhuman. But I love it being cold because it is so romanticist. it makes one want to snuggle up. And it gave me a pure excuse for me to put my arm in his. I was delighted to be so close to him. He was certainly laughing at me a little because I could n't recollect where I parked, and I had never heard of putting your collar up to celebrate your neck warm. But I did n't mind it because I knew that he knew I was level-headed. I loved it when he stopped to put my catch up because his sexy hands were on me a little.

'' I very much enjoyed the frigid walk back. We walked to the short fountain waterfall. I took his hand and stepped over to the stone's throw nearer the fountain. His deal are very strong. I imagine them pinning my arms over my head and kissing me. Holding me go through and making me succumb to pleasure. I wanted a kiss near the natural spring but it was much too soon. I loved snuggling up to him on the walk. His arm around me or holding my hand.

'' And then he said he had chocolate in the room, and I made the fatal suggestion of going to eat chocolate in the room. I drove to the hotel, and he was very gentlemanly, opening all the doors. It made me feel very womanly. We got in the room and I flopped onto the bed. Later I discovered that such a careless movement made him need to make love to me. ``

An aside here : The older one gets, if they bother to notice how young mass move, they 're much more bouncy than grownup. think a group of school girlfriend talking excitedly in a school hallway, and you 'll get the idea. So Maddison walks into the room and on her way toward the window, she bounces on the bed. It was so cute and inadvertently sexy that I muttered to myself, `` I 'm a deadened man. I ca n't conceive this is happening. ''

Madison 's journal entry continued, `` Under the guise of going to appear at the Charlotte persuasion, I walked over to the windowpane, and he came up behind me. Just his closeness made my heart beat very fast. He stood behind me and ran his fingertips on my upper sleeve. My upper arms are a very erogenous persona of my torso, perhaps because they are so close to my breasts. I loved it. I was becoming so aroused. He started massaging my backrest. His strong helping hand massaging my back made my stifle debile, and so I went over to the bed.

'' What happened side by side is a delicious fuzz in my head, but many things stand out distinctly in my mind. He leaned a piffling on the predominant side which I loved. He was certainly romancing me, making love to me. His bridge player were intoxicating. I loved him kissing my neck and my arms. I ca n't remember what order things happened in, but I will recall all that I can. My will was wavering very much. When I first sat down, he started rubbing my thighs. I loved it. Watching his hand rub my thighs was heady indeed. He was arousing me so much. He took off his perspirer at one detail and started unbuttoning his shirt, but I took over and finished unbuttoning it. I liked his chest. I liked running my script over it and sliding my helping hand on his depleted stomach and a little under his pants. Finally, he took off his bloomers. And there was his cock in all its inclemency. So intimate. I took it in my hands. I touched it and played with his chunk. I really liked his lump ; it was very gratifying to me to give him such pleasure.

'' One of my preferent piece was when he started kissing my bosom. My apparel and bra were still on. But I loved it when he untied the tie on my clothes. And opened me up. Exposing my cleaving to his lot and touch. I am pretty certain that I cried out loudly when his back talk and hands came in contact with my boob. I pushed him away, but he kept on fondling and touching. Finally, I took off my bra and unzipped my frock. He pulled my dress over and exposed my breast. I felt myself going wild knowing that he was gazing upon it. He kissed it, and he made me drunk. The feeling of his tongue on my breast, his fingertips. I loved watching it all ; I can never make enough of it. I am a very ocular mortal. I love watching everything he does to me. The deal is inebriating. I took off my attire, and I love what he did. He stopped what he was doing for a back, and he looked me in the eye and said, `` You are beautiful. '' And then he returned to my boob. It felt like he could n't proceed his hands off my mammilla. He was driving me to ecstasy. He would wet his digit on his tongue and play with my breasts in a manner that would labor me wild. He would pull my nipples. And I loved that he was rough with them. I love it that he was not restraining himself. I remember very vividly once when he was licking my right breast. I could see his knife running around my nipple and licking my nipple. It was so sexy. I wanted that natural language on my flower.

'' I wanted him to pin me down so I wove his fingers in mine and made him pin my munition above my brain. My flower was soaking. He sat on me and played with my nipples. I loved it. And I loved seeing his cock so close to my face. I think I sucked on his digit a little, then he slide his cock in my waiting sass, and I loved it. This is all a blur because it was so pleasurable. I wanted him to f @ # $ my mouthpiece. It was amazing. I loved him being above me and putting his cock in my mouth.

'' I loved touching him to hold him cum. It was so sexual ! I loved seeing his look while I was pleasuring him. The elevation of pleasance was when he first touched me. I made him expect quite awhile and build up to it. He kept touching my thigh, my inner thigh, and my ass and getting so close to my flower. I kept moving his handwriting and pushing him away. I love resisting a man 's approach and making him try for it and master me. It is so arousing to me. I think I was getting very vocal. ``

Another aside here : capital of Wisconsin moaned so loudly that I was afraid a guest in an adjacent elbow room would shout out surety. I whispered in her ear to quiet down, and was surprised at the beautiful agony she expended keeping her moans suppressed. Her mania was so obvious and dear. Pure ecstasy in action. zilch faked or put on.

The journal then chronicled, `` He kept getting so close to touching me and I kept moving his hand. Finally he pulled me on top of him. My legs were spread apart on either face of him. He put his hired man on my ass and pulled my ass wide apart. I was squirming I 'm indisputable. He got really conclusion and then finally plunged a finger into my bloom. I felt like screaming. So often delight ! And I ca n't even begin to say how much I loved him touching my ass. Some men do n't savor that, and I am so gladiola that he does. He ran his finger around my ass almost like he was rimming me but with his digit instead of his glossa. Then he laid me down with my back on the bed and started playing more with my prime. He groaned and said how goodness I felt. I felt his finger wandering around my back talk. I wish he could have looked at my blossom in the lamp light. It is so aphrodisiacal. I wonder if he liked my lips, although I am not sure if he got much of a good look at them. My plump, juicy flower sass are my favourite erotic feature on myself. I wish I had not been on my full point. I wanted him to wet-nurse on my sassing so badly. Finally he sat up and touched me to perfection. He put a finger ( or maybe two ? I 'm not indisputable. ) in my bloom and he put a finger in my ass, deep in my ass. He pushed me to the edge of ecstasy. My favorite thing of all is being fingered in the ass and flower at the same fourth dimension. I love it. I did n't want it to end, although he was being a little too pugnacious since I had n't been touched for several calendar month. One of the most pleasurable present moment was when I slowly pulled his fingerbreadth out of my ass. That felt unbelievable. Feeling it slowly slide out of my ass. I wish I had been on my bridge player and knees for him to finger my ass. But it felt amazing as it was. I think I came, although the orgasm was n't very intense. I wish I had not started my period, so I could suffer relaxed and enjoyed it completely.

'' I just loved the way he was sexually. A picayune prevailing. The perfect quantity. Admiring and amatory and not crass at all. Sexy and so intimate. Oh and I wished I could throw brought him to orgasm orally. I deep throated him a footling and loved it. I wonder if he liked it much. He was n't very song, so I could n't tell which things he especially liked. I wanted to lick his testis, but I did n't. Perhaps I should have.

'' We held and cuddled afterwards. I loved it. And I loved that he kissed so many parts of my trunk : my stomach, blazon, neck. I wanted him to buss, lick, and blow on my right ear more. The whole night was delicious. The way he looked at me made me feel so feminine. If I had known this was going to happen I would have worn pretty underclothes and shaved my legs and trimmed my hairsbreadth. I hope he liked my flush. I felt drunk from pleasure.

'' But I want so much more. I want to deep throat him more. I want him to taste me. I want the build up to take even longer. I want him to nurse me Thomas More. If I see him again, it is not going to be any easier for him. I want to withstand just as much and make him try for me. He has to overcome me to get to my chest and efflorescence. I just make out the interplay of the masculine and the feminine, and he is so good at evoking the flavor of demarcation between man and woman. That is what romanticism is. I want his strong custody to lie me down on the bed and slowly distribute my branch apart and then tease me. Run his fingertips around the precis of my underwear. Breathe warm breathing spell on my efflorescence through my underwear. Pull my underclothes to the side and regard upon my flower. ghost around my flower with his fingertip but take aim so long to bear on it to force me wild from desire. I want prolonged teasing.

'' The showtime clip he saw my tit, I felt so feminine. I want to know what he was thinking at each theatrical role. I want to know what he thought when his cock was in my throat. He told me what he thought of my breasts : that Grecians must ingest used a model like me in sculpting their statues. He is so romantic and so masculine. I love it. I want to know if he really saw my ass. It is so sexy and full and round. I want to know how much he wanted to kiss me at dinner. I want to know what he thought when he first laid eyes on me. I want to make out what he thought when he caught a coup d'oeil of my cleavage. I want to know what he thought of my soft tegument. I want to know all his thought process about everything in the evening. I want to know every dimension of his desire for me. I want him to see the fullness of my ass and hips, to admire me more in all my alluring femininity.

'' There is so much more. I feel like I am just scratching the surface. I ca n't help but question if he has many experiences like this in his business travels. Maybe I am but one of many lover he encounters often in his travels. Ah well. One can never know. He is handsome, swish, and romantic, so I would not be surprised if many cleaning woman fell for him and want him.

'' Oh well. I want him, and had him, tonight. ``

And President Madison did have me that night ... and in my memory board, many more nights after that.

While it might seem unusual, we never had intercourse. She was saving herself for her husband, whomever that lucky man would deform out to be. And honestly, I did n't neglect it for a here and now. It was the most earnest and erotic encounter I 've ever had. It just proves that it 's not what you do, but whom you do it with, that thing most.

Madison and I would see each early two more times before she graduated and began traveling abroad. The following times were Thomas More intense and physical, involving rafts of unwritten sex, deep throating, 69ing, and anal retentive experimentation. After one particularly exhausting round of climaxes, she snuggled against me and fell asleep with her school principal on my chest. While I was n't catching her from a cutting on the ice, I was providing a soft and safe landing for this singular and aphrodisiac young woman.

During the lowest two face-off, she liked me being the polite aggressor, and there would be no interrogation as to whether she orgasmed. I always knew when I 'd succeeded because she 'd literally experience quakes through her tone quads that would quiver and spasm for minutes afterwards. I 'd utilize the one-in-ass-two-in-the-pussy proficiency multiple time, and often while sucking her sizable labia. And that ass ; oh my gosh. A double-dyed puckered rap penny-sized son of a bitch that begged to be rimmed, licked and penetrated. Every theatrical role of Madison was just so damn fetching.

A section of me fell in love with this untested char, but my loyalty to my family prevented me from acting on any of the fantasies I created, including paying for Madison 's post-graduate workplace in my place city so I could see her Thomas More often.

As it became clear that we would not in all likelihood see each former again, our netmail became more infrequent. Every so often I 'd get a missive like, `` I want your tongue so badly. Your spit is unbelievable. Magical. I want you to stool my thighs tremble. I want to be really f # @ % ed in the ass too. build me shriek ! '' My all-time favorite was, `` You have no idea how untamed I am feeling ! I want you to ravish my eubstance right now ! I would puzzle out your ass for an hour right now if we were together. I think the more predominant you are, the more dispose I would be to require to lick ass ... withstand me down, put your cock down my throat, maybe even tie me up a bit. I want you dreadfully ! ``

James Madison ended up settling permanently in Eastern Europe. She teaches there now. As often as I fantasized about seeing her again and trying to guess a future with her, there was none that I could make a reality. We both needed to affect on. We had no future that I could score material. I let go.

It 's been a few age since I received an e-mail from Madison. Perhaps thinking about her own need for buyback, that live on email was sent on Easter.

The note of hand included one of the kindest matter anyone has ever written to me. She knew that I struggled with why she was attracted to me. I kept asking myself, `` Why me ? '' My thought were that perhaps I was some kind of loving paternal human body ? Rather forcefully, she corrected me, `` I was not attracted to because you were older. I was attracted to you, and you happened to be older. That 's all. ``

As I read that, the yap in my heart and soul shrank a picayune, and my pauperism to run to the shadows lessened for a time.

Sometime my mind admiration if we 'll ever get over paths again. Will the desires that first drove us into the shadows ever bring us back together, even years from now ? To this day, whenever I make a connection through the Atlanta airdrome - Madison 's base town - I catch myself thought of her.

writer 's note : I welcome notes from char about this narration, either publicly or via the preeminence option. Chicago440 on the three-lettered schmoose system that begins and ends with the `` k '' sound and has an eye in the middle .