“How can I speak of this?” he said as they blissed out together. The sense of contact of their bodies together was so real that no answer was needed; the body sang its mute “Yes”. And such a pairing made the minds meld, to such an extent that she couldn’t, for a moment, quite grasp who had started this narrative, but her leg rubbed against his cock and she thrilled to the feel, to the familiarity, to the heat as I sat in bed and composed this open letter to you, my dearest, to say “Let us write a tale together, and tell of this sense of the other, and let us intertwine and edit each other’s words and thoughts into a thread that lets, encourages, even makes a reader flip between identities, so they blur into a sense of jointness, and the union of the two becomes the authentic voice of the narrative.”
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