If the truth were known, I would never keep this diary unless I believed it would become a meaningful chronology.If the truth were known, I would never keep this diary unless I believed it would become a meaningful chronology. But I am committed to this project now. I am intent upon making Heather into my fantasy lover. Her mouth is full and her lips are meant to be kissed and tasted. It amazes me when I think of how sexually expressive her mouth is. Her lips glisten with temptation as if they were primarily used to be kissed and only secondarily to form words. They express a life of their own when she speaks. Her gentle words trickle out between them, given meaning by the expression her lips form as she speaks. The flash of her pink tongue as she runs it over her bottom lip is just another erotic invitation to taste them. Her words are given an additional softness by their texture. I was lost in these thoughts when somewhere in the distance I thought I heard my name. "Michael?" By the time she spoke it a third time, I shook my head clear and returned to the hotel room. I must have looked like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Heather laughed her silly little laugh and asked what took me away on such a long journey into myself. I took her hand and returned a smile and asked her if she were sure she wanted to know. She shook her head yes. I do not believe I will ever forget the look on her face as I spilled out the feelings inside of me. I was about to take a step forward that would change our lives for "better or for worse". "Heather, I am not sure how to express all that I feel right now. I will try, but you have to forgive me if it sounds a bit jumbled. I love you, love you so much that it hurts me to know that we are predictable and boring," I began. Heather lowered her eyes and I knew that she was feeling the same thing. "I am taking a chance too, on. Look, tell me you can't set your watch by our sexual routine. |