I know what you want. You want me to write and tell you how it was after all of this time. You want to know what he said and what I said. You want to make sure that we were careful and discreet. You want to make sure that I am okay with the inevitable emotions tangled up in two decades worth of friendship and fucking. That I am steel willed enough to not melt when he tells me that he loves me, that I am his soul mate, and that we are meant to be together. You want to hear how he never took his eyes off me as we made love. How our bodies, even after all this time apart, remembered just how to move and how to fit. How his slow and steady grind made me cum so easily. I know you want me to write and tell you that an old lover has become a new lover once again.
And you over there. I know exactly what you want to hear. You want the dirty, nasty details. You'd like the part where he came up behind me and ran his hands down over my tits and into the waistband of my skirt. How wet I was before his fingers even slipped inside my panties. You'd like me to write and tell you how my mouth couldn't wait to wrap around his cock after all these years. How much I longed to please him, to show him what he'd been missing all of this time. Surely you'd like to know that I ached for him to fuck me, and that the feeling was mutual. That line in the sand was forever erased as once again he slid his cock where it belongs. You'd want me describe how he pinned my ankles and bit my lower lip. Or about how I ground my pussy onto his face as he lapped me up and made me writhe in pleasure. You'd want to hear all of this. How much of a whore I really am.
Then again maybe I am all wrong. Maybe you don't want to hear any of this.