When I used to travel on byplay I would occasionally post an ad in the Craigs List Men-for-Women section. It was mostly a way to kill time while was alone in a hotel room. I 'd write something fun, like `` child Oil, Wine & Hot Tub - What Could Be Better ? '' The organic structure of the post would be well written, in make out sentences, with proper punctuation. If you ever looked at CL itemisation, these staple calibre made the ad standstill out from the convention `` HMU 2 F $ # @ '' type fare.

As an sure-enough white guy ( just over 50 when I posted this finicky ad ), it 's not like my in-box got flooded. The reaction were mostly from Russian chiseller, sporting lady, and drug addict. Depending on how tire I was, I 'd grow the tables on the scammers, be skillful to the floozy, and point the addict toward topical anaesthetic treatment centers.

Occasionally, I 'd get a hit from a real, genuine human being. nearly emails were guys offering blow jobs. Once in a gloomy moon, a woman would respond.

One day, I received a confidently written reception that did n't feature the English-as-second-language clue that revealed a alien swindler. The note simply answered my interrogation about `` what could be considerably. '' The woman whom I would come to live as capital of Wisconsin wrote, `` Chocolate would be considerably. '' Opinionated I thought. I like impregnable women. In plus to the topic line fact mood, she wrote only these words, `` Are you unity ? ''

Opinionated, laconic and moral.

My response did n't lie, but I agreed with her assessment, then offered dark drinking chocolate along with a body rub. She responded, `` Well, I am adamant, so I do n't remember you can exchange my idea, although you may be able-bodied to score my nous. Strong, masculine script on my soft, jolly body is so enticing and intoxicating. I could use a organic structure rub ... I have been working really hard on my dissertation and am quite fatigued. I wish I could come. : ( I am just very serious about respecting early woman and their relationships, even if I do n't know them. ``

The additional detail in her note revealed a deepening curiosity. Expecting nothing more than e-mail - 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 history for a living, it was a welcomed distraction from my regular life, 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 understanding I did n't just lease a outcry young lady ).

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

She wrote, `` I really experience obliged 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 languish your meter. I really do trust it is wrong to be with someone who is married or in a family relationship, and I am very conscientious about that.

'' But I do really care your photos though. You look smart and fine-looking in the dependable way possible. You are definitely a well bit older than me but very very much my character physically speaking with your hair and peel. You 're adorable. I love it. : ) Very sexy. And seeing your strong handwriting makes me desire you to give me a thigh massage.

'' As for me, I am 22. I am writing my undergrad, senior thesis on The pestis by Albert Albert Camus. I am single. I love spoken communication, especially Latin and Ancient Greek. I spent a calendar month in Italia finale summer ; I love to journey. I enjoy baking gelt. I love the symphony orchestra and the opera. And I love to eat. : )

'' What do you think of my photo ? ``

Oh my. What did I remember ? I was looking at a college young woman who was flirting with me ! My feelings raced from disbelief to being flattered, excited, enchanted and seriously aroused.

Madison exuded the girl-next-door look with medium chocolate-brown hair that hung past her shoulders. Even though the pic was not at all revelation, she had beautiful womanly curves. imagine a Graeco-Roman Rubenesque model minus 20 pounds and you 're picturing President Madison. Her sparkling eyes and welcoming grin were simply, well, just pretty. Melt-me cute. And pure.

Of course of action, she was not completely pure. Like me, like everyone who pursues what they need but ca n't find through normal channel, Madison was n't totally innocent. Like me, she had started down a faint way of life of her own. Fortunately, somehow we 'd met.

My business programme put me in the Southern metropolis near her college in the dead of winter. Our electronic mail took on an urgency because the opportunity to meet was ours to miss. I suggested coffee. Her response revealed a longing. `` Of course, I am peculiar 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 first light category about your hands 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 yr since I have been with a man who knew something about build up and drawn-out passion. It is something I love and something that takes me to ecstasy, and something about which many men know practically nil. I would love a buildup of intensity tonight.

'' If I went even to dinner with you, I think that I would desire you to make at least a picayune sexual love to me, but since I wo n't let that materialize since you are attached, it would just be torture for me. I ca n't terminate wishing you were single ! But I just ca n't go against my conscience. I want kisses on my neck and ear. I dislike this intimate struggle. : ( ``

Driven by the deepest need to satisfy my ticker, I rationalized the situation in a note back to her, `` To put things into view, you 'll likely do unfit things in your life history than see me. At least if you see me, there 's a rattling upside. Some things are worth it. The realism of how I could make you feel : Worth it. The memories of what we 've shared. Worth it. The adventure. Worth it. ``

I did not tell her that for me, the tryst would renew my strength to stay in my outwardly complete marriage that was otherwise killing me ... slowly sucking the warmth and energy from my soul due to my married woman 's worked up and physical disinterest. Being with Madison took on duplicate urgency as I realized she could be so deeply authoritative to me at a floor she could n't possibly understand.

Madison resisted and resisted until she did n't. dozen of e-mails tracked the moral battle. Either of us could have walked away. Neither did.

We 'd agreed to satisfy at a wine bar for dinner party. I got there a bit early and ordered a Riesling. Then a arcsecond. I 'd positioned myself in the very back of the eatery, faced so I could see the door. Madison arrived. She was prettier than her photograph, and I had n't realized how tall she was, at least 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 deal in social movement of me to gently welcome her by taking her 's and leading her to our tabular array. It was going to be a nice evening.

Still to this present moment I ca n't recall the dress she was wearing, except that had a modestly deep neckline with a lace up feature of speech. I did my best to keep my eyes on hers, but her ample breasts made for the most beautiful cleavage.

We talked for a while, noshed on some dandy intellectual nourishment, drank a little ( more ) wine-colored, and then Madison announced she needed to go. It was n't late, but I knew she was working on her thesis, and I did n't require to infringe on her studies.

existence 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 forget where she parked. Then she realized she did n't have cash to pay the parking fee. I found this so fascinate and innocent.

Perhaps as a life metaphor regarding needs, as we were walking, she shivered. I put my arm around her and turned up the shoe collar on her fleece coat. She 'd never known you could do that ! I guess when Sakartvelo is your abode, what comes naturally to those who grew up in the frigid Mid-West would n't be second 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 and walk surprisingly revealed, that despite our age difference, we clicked. Our personalities and deep-seated needs meshed in a way I still do n't understand. This girl with whom I was walking was so youth, fairly, smart and vivacious that I did n't require her to go. I told her I 'd like some desert. She coyly asked, `` What are you hungry for ? '' Chocolate was the only appropriate verbal answer, although my middle said otherwise. I casually noted, as if by conjunction, that I had dark chocolate in my room. As we pulled into my hotel, she was the one to hint that she 'd like to derive up.

You could have knocked me over with a feathering. Never in a million years.

As for what happened following, capital of Wisconsin 's diary entree puts it in her Holy Writ. She sent the words below in an email. This is what she wrote in her daybook. The activeness picks up after she gets into her friend 's borrowed car and drives away from the university :

'' love daybook, I decided to go and fulfil him. The tension within myself was too great for me to bear, so I had to go. I think our e-mail exchanges made meeting that much more sex. I did not put much precaution into my underthings when getting quick as I had no mind of what was to come. But I put on my royal low-spirited silk apparel. It is one of my dearie dresses. It is a soft, fine 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 posh apparel. It ties above the knocker ; I like to fancy that when men see it they just want to untie it and start kissing me. I curled my hair and put on light-headed constitution as well as my rose oil essence. In my very chagrin but very accurate opinion, I looked lovely.

'' I drove to the city, and I felt a little anxious as I walked to establishment. It turned out to be the gross place for our rendezvous. I like to conceive of how we looked that evening, all dressed up and wide of desire. I walked in, and I did not see anyone. I thought he would be sitting succeeding to the door observation for me. I felt a small stab of dismay as I looked about and did not see him. But after a few seconds, he stood up and I caught plenty of him. He was sitting in the back ; I walked to him, and the moment I saw him I knew it was going to be a lovely, romantic evening. People most often look more attractive in pictures than in real lifetime. But it was the opposite word with him. He was so well-favoured. He was definitely quite a bit aged than I was, but the age departure did not sense too pronounced. I felt that we were on the Same wavelength. I wonder what were his thoughts when he first saw me. He wears chalk. I love deoxyephedrine on a man. He was wearing a sweater that looked to be very soft and a silk tie. He has very good discernment and seemed Cy Young at heart. When I approached him, he welcomed me with an embrace and kissed me on the boldness. My center began to waver and to melt a little. It was so romantic and made me finger so womanly. I wish I could birth played that scene again and again. I loved him kissing me on the boldness upon meeting me. He is such a romantic, 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 dash of dress. I loved his tasting in food.

'' He sat down, and we conversed a minuscule before the waitress came over. I ordered a Pinor Noir ; he already had his wine-coloured. I was storm that he preferred white-hot wine-coloured. With his romantic, fleshly personality, I would make thought that he would prefer a dark, sultry red. One matter that I found irresistibly attractive about him was his mental lexicon. Most men ( indeed most modern people ) have a very confine vocabulary, because people do n't read much and stead scout chintzy tv. I have a fairly expansive vocabulary because I study Romance and Greek and because I read a lot. But I love that he used language like `` egregious '' and `` idyll. '' I thought it was very sexy.

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

'' The ambiance of the eating place was hone. I have only been able to pledge legally for a petty over a yr, so I still feel the gaud of meeting individual for a glass of vino. It was pleasantly dim interior and the music was perfect. Norah Jones and weenie Francis Albert Sinatra were playing as well as other such artists. I just make out the tension between man and woman. 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 romantic he was. He had a fantastic smile too ; it was very transmissible. Oh and his hands. His hands were incredibly aphrodisiac. I do n't love why, but I could not bar looking at them. They were so sexy. They looked so strong. I kept trying to go along myself from imagining them massaging my breasts and kneading my thighs. Them sliding up my inner second joint and spreading my legs apart. Imagining his finger sliding into the glowering wetness of my prime ... His hands were intoxicating. It did n't help when he got up to use the restroom and as he walked behind me he put his decently hand on my upper right arm. My heart fluttered, and I reveled in the cherubic tone of desire and stimulation that was blossoming inside me. I knew he was trying me to see what would happen, and I soaked up every mo of it. I kept thinking about that simple touch. When he came back, he pulled his chairperson closer to mine, and I felt the issue of that between my legs. Our faces got quite close at times. I ca n't say that I did n't imagine his back talk on the lips of my flower and his mouth enclosing my teat inside it.

'' He said, `` How does it palpate to have somebody sitting so close to you who wants to make love to you ? '' I said something to the effect that it happens not infrequently. He said he was not surprise. He stopped a minuscule a one point in time and said something quietly. I asked him to repeat himself, and he said, `` You 're just so pretty. '' I felt a little bashful at such open esteem, but I also felt so attractive under his regard. Another metre, after I caught him casting a furtive glance at my breasts, he said it again. `` You 're just so pretty. '' I loved that unhurt dinner party. It felt so carnal and quixotic. He kept looking at me with such profundity in his eyes. He would gaze at me for quite a long time, and I would find a footling shy.

'' But my sentiment were not just sexual to be certain. I loved the love story of it. I loved how intelligent and well-traveled he was. And he paid for the meal which is very attractive. I had the impulse to put my deal on the tabular array and let him carry it and stroke it, but I resisted the impulse. He definitely was very attractive to me intellectually. He seemed to bear knowledge in a all-encompassing variety of arena. I just felt drawn to him like a magnet. I tried not to show it of class. I wanted him to prosecute, not me. He looked at me in a very attracted and admiring fashion. I am sure enough that I blushed a little at least. Oh his handwriting. I kept thinking about him slipping his arm around my shank. And about his hired man going dangerously low.

'' When we stood up, he helped me into my coat and after it was on, he put his hands on my waist and again I felt a warm, familiar curling ace between my legs. We walked out ; I even love even the way he walks with so much authority. We got out and it was so insensate. But I love it being cold because it is so wild-eyed. it makes one want to snuggle up. And it gave me a hone exculpation for me to put my arm in his. I was delighted to be so close to him. He was certainly laughing at me a piffling because I could n't think of where I parked, and I had never heard of putting your apprehension up to hold your neck opening warm. But I did n't take care it because I knew that he knew I was healthy. I loved it when he stopped to put my collar up because his sexy hired man were on me a little.

'' I very much enjoyed the frigid walk back. We walked to the little fountain waterfall. I took his helping hand and stepped over to the steps nearer the fountain. His hands are very solid. I imagine them pinning my arms over my forefront and kissing me. Holding me knock down and making me succumb to pleasure. I wanted a buss near the fountain but it was much too soon. I loved snuggling up to him on the walk of life. His arm around me or holding my hand.

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

An aside here : The older one gets, if they bother to keep how young people move, they 're much Thomas More bouncy than adults. Imagine a group of school missy 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 dead man. I ca n't believe this is happening. ''

capital of Wisconsin 's journal entry continued, `` Under the guise of going to look at the charlotte view, I walked over to the window, and he came up behind me. Just his closeness made my core beat very fast. He stood behind me and ran his fingertips on my upper arms. My upper arm are a very erogenous part of my soundbox, perhaps because they are so close to my breasts. I loved it. I was becoming so aroused. He started massaging my back. His unattackable hands massaging my back made my knee weak, and so I went over to the bed.

'' What happened future is a delicious fuzz in my point, but many affair stand out distinctly in my mind. He leaned a trivial on the dominant side which I loved. He was certainly romancing me, making beloved to me. His bridge player were intoxicating. I loved him kissing my neck and my arms. I ca n't remember what order thing happened in, but I will think all that I can. My will was wavering very much. When I first sat down, he started rubbing my thigh. I loved it. Watching his hand rub my thighs was rash indeed. He was arousing me so much. He took off his sweater at one point and started unbuttoning his shirt, but I took over and finished unbuttoning it. I liked his chest of drawers. I liked running my hired man over it and sliding my handwriting on his low-toned abdomen and a little under his pants. Finally, he took off his pant. And there was his peter in all its hardness. So sexual. I took it in my hands. I touched it and played with his orchis. I really liked his orb ; it was very pleasurable to me to give way him such pleasure.

'' One of my favorite parts was when he started kissing my bosom. My dress and bra were still on. But I loved it when he untied the tie on my garb. And opened me up. Exposing my cleaving to his sight and touch. I am pretty for sure that I cried out loudly when his lip and hands came in touch with my breasts. I pushed him away, but he kept on kissing and touching. Finally, I took off my bra and unzipped my dress. He pulled my garb over and exposed my chest. I felt myself going groundless knowing that he was gazing upon it. He kissed it, and he made me inebriate. The feel of his tongue on my bosom, his fingertips. I loved watching it all ; I can never give birth enough of it. I am a very visual person. I love watching everything he does to me. The sight is inebriating. I took off my wearing apparel, and I love what he did. He stopped what he was doing for a second, and he looked me in the eye and said, `` You are beautiful. '' And then he returned to my knocker. It felt like he could n't keep his hands off my mammilla. He was driving me to ecstasy. He would wet his fingers on his lingua and play with my bosom in a manner that would labour me crazy. He would pull my mammilla. And I loved that he was jolting with them. I love it that he was not restraining himself. I remember very vividly once when he was licking my flop breast. I could see his spit running around my nipple and licking my nipple. It was so aphrodisiac. I wanted that lingua on my flower.

'' I wanted him to pin me down so I wove his fingerbreadth in mine and made him pin my arms above my foreland. My efflorescence was soaking. He sat on me and played with my nipples. I loved it. And I loved seeing his hammer so close to my face. I think I sucked on his finger a little, then he slide his stopcock in my waiting mouth, and I loved it. This is all a blur because it was so pleasurable. I wanted him to f @ # $ my mouth. It was amazing. I loved him being above me and putting his shaft in my mouth.

'' I loved touching him to progress to him cum. It was so sexual ! I loved seeing his facial expression while I was pleasuring him. The top of pleasure was when he first touched me. I made him hold off quite awhile and build up to it. He kept touching my thigh, my interior second joint, and my ass and getting so close to my flower. I kept moving his hand and pushing him away. I love resisting a man 's advances and making him try for it and overtake me. It is so arousing to me. I think I was getting very vocal. ``

Another aside here : Madison moaned so loudly that I was afraid a guest in an contiguous way would ring security. I whispered in her ear to quiesce down, and was surprised at the beautiful suffering she expended keeping her groan suppressed. Her passion was so obvious and earnest. Pure ecstasy in action. goose egg 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 side of him. He put his hands on my ass and pulled my ass blanket apart. I was squirming I 'm sure. He got really come together and then finally plunged a finger into my flower. I felt like screaming. So much pleasure ! And I ca n't even begin to say how much I loved him touching my ass. Some men do n't enjoy that, and I am so glad that he does. He ran his finger's breadth around my ass almost like he was rimming me but with his finger's breadth instead of his tongue. Then he laid me down with my rear on the bed and started playing more with my flower. He groaned and said how good I felt. I felt his finger's breadth wandering around my sassing. I wish he could have looked at my flower in the lamp light. It is so sexy. I wonder if he liked my lips, although I am not for sure if he got much of a good flavor at them. My plump, juicy bloom lip are my favorite titillating feature on myself. I wish I had not been on my flow. I wanted him to suck on my lips so badly. Finally he sat up and extend to me to perfection. He put a finger ( or maybe two ? I 'm not sure. ) in my flower and he put a finger in my ass, deep in my ass. He pushed me to the bound of raptus. My preferent thing of all is being fingered in the ass and flower at the like time. I love it. I did n't need it to end, although he was being a slight too rough since I had n't been touched for several month. One of the most pleasurable minute was when I slowly pulled his finger out of my ass. That felt incredible. Feeling it slowly slide out of my ass. I wish I had been on my hands and knee for him to thumb 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 full point, so I could cause relaxed and enjoyed it completely.

'' I just loved the way he was sexually. A slight dominant. The perfect amount. Admiring and quixotic and not crass at all. Sexy and so sexual. 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 vocal, so I could n't recite which things he especially liked. I wanted to cream his balls, 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 contribution of my body : my belly, arms, neck. I wanted him to snog, lick, and blow on my right ear more. The unanimous Night was delectable. The way he looked at me made me finger so womanly. If I had known this was going to happen I would feature worn pretty underwear and shaved my ramification and trimmed my hair's-breadth. I hope he liked my flush. I felt drunk from pleasure.

'' But I want so much more. I want to deep pharynx him more. I want him to savour me. I want the bod up to strike even longer. I want him to hold me to a greater extent. If I see him again, it is not going to be any easier for him. I want to resist just as much and make him try for me. He has to defeat me to get to my tit and heyday. I just be intimate the interplay of the masculine and the feminine, and he is so good at evoking the feeling of contrast between man and woman. That is what romanticism is. I want his strong manpower to lie me down on the bed and slowly circulate my legs apart and then razz me. Run his fingertips around the outline of my underclothing. Breathe warm breath on my efflorescence through my underwear. pull in my underwear to the side and gaze upon my prime. Trace around my flower with his fingertip but learn so long to touch it to drive me gaga from desire. I want lengthy teasing.

'' The first time he saw my breasts, I felt so womanly. I want to know what he was thinking at each persona. I want to know what he thought when his cock was in my throat. He told me what he thought of my tit : that Grecians must receive used a model like me in sculpting their statues. He is so romantic and so masculine. I love it. I want to live if he really saw my ass. It is so aphrodisiacal and full and rung. I want to have intercourse how lots he wanted to buss me at dinner party. I want to have sex what he thought when he first laid eyes on me. I want to know what he thought when he caught a coup d'oeil of my cleavage. I want to know what he thought of my piano skin. I want to have it off all his thoughts about everything in the evening. I want to roll in the hay every proportion of his desire for me. I want him to see the fullness of my ass and pelvis, to admire me more in all my alluring femininity.

'' There is so much more. I feel like I am just scratching the open. I ca n't facilitate but wonder if he has many experiences like this in his business locomotion. Maybe I am but one of many buff he encounters often in his travels. Ah well. One can never know. He is good-looking, classy, 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 Madison did have me that night ... and in my computer storage, many More nights after that.

While it might seem strange, we never had intercourse. She was saving herself for her husband, whomever that favorable man would turn out to be. And honestly, I did n't omit it for a moment. 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 topic most.

Madison and I would see each other two Thomas More multiplication before she graduated and began traveling abroad. The following times were more than vivid and physical, involving piles of oral sex, deep throating, 69ing, and anal experiment. After one particularly exhausting round of climaxes, she snuggled against me and fell asleep with her head on my chest. While I was n't catching her from a slip on the ice, I was providing a soft and safe landing for this odd and sexy young woman.

During the last two encounter, she liked me being the polite aggressor, and there would be no motion as to whether she orgasmed. I always knew when I 'd succeeded because she 'd literally experience quakes through her toned quadriceps femoris that would flutter and spasm for minutes afterwards. I 'd utilize the one-in-ass-two-in-the-pussy technique multiple meter, and often while sucking her sizable labia. And that ass ; oh my gosh. A stark knit pinko penny-sized dickhead that begged to be rimmed, licked and penetrated. Every part of James Madison was just so shit fetching.

A percentage of me fell in beloved with this young womanhood, but my inscription to my kinfolk prevented me from acting on any of the fantasies I created, including paying for President Madison 's post-graduate piece of work in my home base city so I could see her more than often.

As it became make that we would not probable see each other again, our netmail became more infrequent. Every so often I 'd get a missive like, `` I want your tongue so badly. Your glossa is incredible. Magical. I want you to realize my thighs tremble. I want to be really f # @ % ed in the ass too. attain me scream ! '' My all-time favorite was, `` You have no approximation how wild I am feeling ! I want you to ravish my consistency right now ! I would lick your ass for an hr right now if we were together. I think the more prevailing you are, the more lean I would be to want to lick ass ... view as 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 imagine a future tense with her, there was none that I could clear a reality. We both needed to prompt on. We had no future that I could give real. I let go.

It 's been a few old age since I received an electronic mail from Madison. Perhaps thinking about her own need for redemption, that last email was sent on Easter.

The note included one of the kind things 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 thoughts were that perhaps I was some kind of loving paternal figure ? Rather forcefully, she corrected me, `` I was not attracted to because you were old. I was attracted to you, and you happened to be older. That 's all. ``

As I read that, the kettle of fish in my meat shrank a little, and my motivation to run to the tail lessened for a meter.

Sometime my judgement wonders if we 'll ever cross route again. Will the desires that first drove us into the tail ever bring us back together, even twelvemonth from now ? To this day, whenever I make a connection through the Atlanta airdrome - capital of Wisconsin 's home town - I catch myself thinking of her.

Author 's annotation : I welcome notes from women about this story, either publicly or via the note option. Chicago440 on the three-lettered chat system that begins and ends with the `` k '' strait and has an eye in the middle .