| Carly, Chapter 5 Busted! For exceeding the speed limit. Cherilyn, arms crossed holding the bra straps, which had made it as far as her elbows had that 'deer in the headlights' look; CAUTION, moment of truth. The game was on the line. "Oh honey, don't stop now!" I pleaded looking into the limpid blue windows to her soul. The begging quality in my voice surprised me. I'd certainly meant to sound persuasive, but the way it actually came out sounded more like desperation. I could see the morality and modesty taking one final stab at control. The inner conflict between good and evil (you decide which is which) that was raging reflected in the pretty face until—just for a moment—I thought she was going to cry. Her personality and ego wanted to pull her top off; show the goods in all their glory. The modesty natural or learned was screaming that she'd gone too far already. "Oh baby please ... they're so pretty in that bra; I know they're gonna look just amazing without it." The level of her trembling had increased along with the depth and frequency of her breathing. It seemed as though her body was actually in physical combat. I wished I could tell which side was winning but Cherry remained frozen, trembling and looking like she'd seen a ghost. "Come on sweetie don't be shy. Show me those beautiful titties." My reluctant model remained transfixed. "What if I take my top off? Would that make you feel better; more comfortable?" I set the Canon on the table and without further adieu stripped my scoop necked top over my head. I'd like to say that my titties stood out as firm and proud as Cherilyn's, but at my age gravity and muscle tone had made my bra more of a necessity than a decoration. I flipped the straps off my shoulders putting me in a similar state of undress—at least from the waist up—as my model. "Let's take them off together ... what do you say?" I encouraged reaching up behind my back and locating the tiny hooks. Cherry hadn't moved and the only change I detected was very subtle. She looked less terrified and more curious. Her eyes which had seemed to be looking out into infinity were now obviously focused on my chest. I released the fasteners and took hold of the band of the bra under my arms. "Together honey," I said ready to expose myself. For agonizing seconds I thought it wasn't going to work. She still hadn't moved. I was calculating my next move. 'Should I just strip or should I wait?' I saw her aspect change. It was like a big cloud passing, finally letting the sun shine through, or maybe more like the end of an eclipse. Her face began to brighten and she was reaching up her back. I saw the tension on the stretchy blue bra release. She brought her hands back in front of her. Even with nothing really holding it, the thin light cups clung to their treasures. Slowly but steadily I began to pull my own 'C' cups off my pear shaped boobs. My shy model didn't immediately copy the action but her eyes seemed to be getting wider as more and more of my heavy breasts were revealed. I had been so intent on getting Cherry out of the bra and panty set, trying so hard to find just the right words, the right encouragement to get her over the last hump of modesty that I had completely forgotten my own acute state of arousal; until now that was. As the cups of my seamless white T shirt bra finally released their cargo and my heavy boobs settled to rest on my ribs I was pretty sure she gasped, I know I did. Exposing my big brown puckered areolas with the dark pink nipple protruding and standing out a half an inch made them tingle and itch, sending a stream of delight signals through the very efficient conduit that connected them directly to my pussy. Fending off the dizziness, I dropped my bra on the floor and picked up the EOS. I didn't want to miss this. I had more time than I thought because Cherilyn seemed to have forgotten her part of the bargain. She hadn't taken her eyes off my chest since I'd reached behind for the hooks and now that my bra was off her wide eyes were positively riveted to my tits. "Your turn sweetheart," I prompted. Her gaze never faltered. Without looking she grasped the cups of the translucent blue bra near where the shoulder straps joined them and pulled the gossamer garment off. They never moved, not even a fraction of an inch. The adorable adolescent cup cakes became more conical again reflecting the amount of rounding the lingerie had provided. Even as I watched through the lens the puffy pale pink mushroom caps seemed to be crinkling and tightening. Cherry dropped her arms to her sides the diaphanous blue bra hanging from her finger tips. I had been firing the SLR's shutter non stop since I'd picked it up. My focus had been on the gorgeous and so recently minted teenaged breasts. "Oh my God ... they're so fuckin' beautiful," I gasped. I sighed and let my focus shift to my model's face. She wasn't smiling but her face was relaxed looking the contortions that the dilemma had caused had faded away. "Run your hands down your body for me ... like you did before; remember?" Her trembling hands lighted near her collar bone and began their slow downward trek. Over the upper slopes of the incredibly firm hills, when the tenderly stroking fingers passed over the crinkled pink caps she emitted a groan so deep that it was hard to imagine that it came from her tiny frame. Down, down, down over the ribs until her fingers were touching the waistband of the delicate blue panties. "Pull on it sweetie ... play with your panties." It was an ambiguous direction but the girl managed to interpret it very satisfactorily; tugging on the elastic with the tiny little bow in the middle, pulling it out and puckering it over her tummy, then stretching it out from her hips as though she was getting ready to pull them down. Employing an unprofessional and ill advised shooting technique I held and fired the camera with one hand while I released the clasp on my shorts and pulled down the zipper with my other. When they were undone they fell to the floor all by themselves. I didn't think Cherry noticed that we were now even. I stepped on and out of the cotton denim cargo shorts. "Run your hands down again" I ordered, surprised that I barely had enough breath to get the words out. We were definitely back on track now. Cherry's head tipped back and her hands slid slowly down until they were fully cupping her mounds. "That's great honey... soooo gooood!" I encouraged. "Squeeze 'em ... like ya did before." Her tiny fingers pressed into her firm pliable boobs and she moaned. Still standing but her legs crossed and her hips hunched. I concluded that she'd done this before when she cupped herself and began running her thumb over the raisin sized red peg that was sticking out from the shocking pink crinkled areola. I could sympathize with the way she'd crossed her legs and seemed to be trying to get pressure on her girlhood. My own crotch was getting achy, begging for attention. "Can you take the panties off ... will you do that?" I asked checking her face for renewed signs of distress. A shadow came over her lust filled expression. She stopped tweaking her nipples and stood there just cupping the underside of her breasts. My heart sank and my pussy moaned in disappointment. It looked like the morals, pounded into her for all her life were not totally defeated. I'd had many models that I was never able to get beyond this point. Somehow those young women felt safe as long as their underpants remained in place. They drew the line at putting their coochie on display. I felt disappointed in spite of the fact that I'd gotten much more out of this session than I had any right to expect. 'If she chickens out on me now it'll still be a great shoot. Who knows, she may agree to do another one ... and with money in her pocket and the big inhibitions breached maybe she'll go all the way next time' I wasn't about to push too hard. What she said next made me feel faint. "But I'm so ... uh, so ... um, messy down there," she sounded even more breathless than I did. She had uncrossed her legs and was standing up straight again. She seemed to be looking down at the front of her panties. I was so flabbergasted by the revelation that I was speechless. "Will you ... ya know be able to tell ... uh in the, um, pictures?" Even if I'd been able to answer I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to lie. Most likely her wetness would be visible in the photos, but if I told her that she'd probably be too embarrassed to take the panties off. The throb from my womanhood was so intense that I had to bear down really hard and reach deep into my experience for control. I had rounded second and was heading full speed onto third. It seemed the only obstacle I faced was my own ability to concentrate. "Why don't you ... uh, take them off ... and ... we'll ... we'll see," I panted. 'That's too easy ... it'll never work' I thought, but at that moment I couldn't do better. 'Some predator you are! You've taken down your prey and ya can't figure out how to make the kill.' God I hated it when my mind made those analogies! My mind was simply not clear enough to be creative. 'I could tell her how pretty her pussy was ... how badly I wanted to see it ... weak... ! Useless... !' While I was beating myself up I saw Cherry hook her thumbs in the waist band of her underpants. 'Oh fuck, Oh God ... she's actually gonna do it!' The sheer blue fabric started to descend. "Will it be OK?" my now not so shy model asked "I mean if ya can ... uh, ya know, see ... uh, um ... how wet I am?" I was shooting one handed again this time because I had to hold on to the table to keep from falling down. My legs had all but deserted me. Cherry had to work the panties over her butt. The waistband slid down her slender thighs but the crotch piece clung for a second. When it released the tendrils of pussy juice were drawn into long strings connecting the blue knickers to the rectangle of golden fur. She was stooping forward and the sheer blue material was almost at her knees when she exhaled a deep groan. That's as far as the panties made it. She stood up and grabbed her pouting girlhood with a squeal of delight. The camera caught her fingers digging into her plump wetness. One finger disappeared into the furry fleshiness then a second. Her hand began a rotary motion and she groaned again. The scent of her arousal reached me and I lost control. Thankfully I managed to put the EOS on the table instead of just dropping the expensive camera on the floor. The next thing I knew I was kneeling in front of the masturbating teenager, pulling her underpants the rest of the way down. Her juice got on my hand from the saturated crotch as I lifted her leg by the ankle and threaded the semi transparent material over her foot. Starting at her knees I slid my hands up her quivering thighs toward her rapidly gyrating fingers. I was pushing outward encouraging her to open her legs wider—which she did. About halfway up I encountered the film of slick fluid coating her velvety smooth skin. Sliding my hands around the back I was surprised how small the firm hemispheres of her butt cheeks felt in my hands. I squeezed her ass and started to clean some of the escaped nectar from her upper thighs with my tongue. Tipping my head and looking up I was able to catch sight of her gorgeous face looking down at me. I interrupted the tongue bath I was lavishing on her leg long enough to say, "Open it for me honey ... open your pretty little pussy." Her left hand, which had been tugging at her breast, joined her diddling right. She moved her feet wider apart while retracting the thick slippery outer labia. In an instant I surveyed the familiar yet always unique terrain. Her inner lips were fairly small and they glowed a very deep pink, coated in the mostly clear sap of her sex. Where the inner lips met there was only the slightest hint of a prepuce. It appeared my model was one of those women who did not exhibit much of their clitoral glans. The upper third of her labia minora was her pleasure center. I applied my tongue near the source of her streaming juices and lapped upward, feeling the tender delicate flesh part. I felt the firmness of the clitoral root under my tongue as I reached the top and lashed it rapidly. Her hips hunched and I squeezed her ass cheeks harder and pulled her pelvis forward. She was grunting and groaning rhythmically as I alternated between a long lapping motion collecting and drinking her effluent, with a rapid tongue lashing of the diminutive firm bump at the apex of her girlhood. She was so sweet it was like eating candy. I adjusted my lingual ministrations to the pace of her grunts which were becoming more rapid. Her hips were trying to move in various directions but my firm grip on her ass restricted the actual movement. Her hips stopped moving all of a sudden and I felt a rapid twitching almost like a vibration running through her. I sucked the upper potion of her inner labia into my mouth and continued sucking as the climax overtook her. The frequency of her vibration decreased but the amplitude increased. The violent shaking in her legs made the teenager lose her balance. I was in a poor position to prevent her fall. All I could do was to pull her crotch tight against my face and try to control the descent. Her instinct for self-preservation kicked in as she put her hands out behind her. It was a surprisingly soft landing on the mottled off white floor covering. When she was safely on the ground I continued lapping at her honey pot while she purred contentedly punctuated with occasional intense shudders. Eventually I rolled on to my back and lay there savoring the delicious aroma that filled my nostrils. While I had been pleasuring the blonde nymph all my sensory processing capabilities had been focused on my mouth. I lay there listening to her soft mewing sounds and the ache between my own legs reasserted. I slipped the fingers of my right hand under the waist elastic of my panties and gently but firmly began massaging my vulva. My eyes were closed as I piled the spongy flesh of my pancaked left tit up onto my chest and started massaging it as well. Delirious warm waves of joy washed over me as I attended to my needs. My mind replayed the last few moments of the photo shoot, Cherry pulling her sodden panties down, the stringy evidence of her arousal clinging, then breaking and depositing on her thighs. The scene was playing in super slow motion. Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought about the fact that I'd have the video of those incredibly sensual moments to keep me warm some needy night in the future. I don't know how I knew that she was above me, leaning over me, I just did. I opened my eyes to see her beautiful face a foot away. Our eyes met, then she wrapped her sweet soft lips over mine, no doubt tasting her own sweet juices that still coated the major part of my lower face. Our tongues entwined and danced, exploring the wondrous sensual softness inside each other's mouth. I felt her tiny hand on my breast very tentatively stroking its fullness. When the exploring fingers grazed over my rigid nipple we moaned into each other's mouth. Cherilyn broke the kiss and looked over to my chest where her hand caressed one boobie and mine held the other. "Your nipples are so huge," she admired while her fingers bumped over the rubbery peg. Each deflection and rebound of the sensitive nub sent a pleasure pulse down to where the fingers of my right hand were still gently stroking my womanhood. Abandoning my pulsating vulva I used both hands to heap my titties up on top of my chest. "Suck them," I commanded. Without a moment's hesitation my blonde model's shiny golden hair was covering my chest and tantalizing the flesh like a hundred little feathers. Her lips wrapped around the firm peg sticking up from my left breast and sucked like a baby. A powerful thrill shot directly to my clit and I felt my vaginal walls contract and spasm. "Bite it ... ugh, bite it," I urged. Her tender sucking and flicking tongue were not aggressive enough. Tentatively she applied her teeth to the sensitive nub. "Harder ... harder!" I directed. The slipperiness of her saliva felt great combined with the pinching action of her teeth. "Do ... do the other one," I ordered. My teenaged model compliantly leaned over to capture my right tit, as much as would fit in her tiny mouth and reprised the tonguing, sucking, biting process she'd applied to my left. The steady stream of pleasure signals played in syncopation with the pulsing of my clit. Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my underwear, I lifted my hips and then folded my legs until I was able to remove the obstructing material. When I spread my legs wide my more acrid musky scent mingled with Cherry's sweetness creating a fog of sensual aromas all around us. Recognizing the change my teenaged companion sat back on her heels and ran her eyes down to my furry V. My right hand was back on my mons. I gave myself a couple of firm quick slaps before pulling up and out on my fleshy vulva. I don't have a huge clitoris, but the glans is big enough to stick straight up and out when I pull on my lips like that. I gently wiggled my little nubbin back and forth as my inexperienced partner watched in obvious fascination. The wonderful sensations I felt stroking my clit were enhanced by the girl's stare. She scrambled around until she was between my legs evidently wanting a better view. My legs were spread about as wide as I could get them and my knees were slightly bent. Cherry put her hands on my inner thighs and slid them down toward my lewdly spread sex. "I've never ... ugh ... you know ... uh..." she started to say. "I know you haven't honey ... and you don't have to now. You can just watch me if you want to," I said relieving her of any perceived obligations. The heat radiating out from my crotch as I rolled my firm little bud under my finger was increasing by the second. Looking into her sweet young face staring so intently at my splayed womanhood, I began squeezing my left tit and teasing the nipple at the same time. Pressure was building up behind or underneath the heat. When I felt the tingling in my toes I knew I was getting very close. "I want to!" Cherry stated emphatically and crouched closer to my weeping pussy. I could see the confusion, the indecision on her face. "Just lick it like you would an ice cream cone sweetheart," I instructed, having concluded that she just couldn't figure out how to start. She made a little moan or maybe it was a sigh just before her little pink tongue contacted my meaty inner lips near the middle of my crease. The sensational contact made me squeal with delight. Apparently encouraged by my obvious approval she began, as instructed, to lap up my flowing juices. The tingling in my feet and ankles was rolling like a carpet up my legs. "Right here honey ... lick right here," I struggled to say, tapping my finger on my protruding love button. What she lacked in experience she made up for with enthusiasm. Her tongue circled my aching pleasure center and then flicked it rapidly back and forth. Suddenly the temperature went through the roof and the tingling seemed to affect every part of me. I knew I was going to cum any second. Just before the brilliant flash I heard myself say "suck it" and she did. The athletic nymph managed to hold on and continue to apply suction to my pleasure center in spite of my bucking and thrashing. When the intensity of the orgasm began to subside I had to push her head away and clutch my vibrating womanhood. I don't really know what Cherry was doing while I lay there with my eyes closed shuddering. The next thing I did know was that her silky hair was on my chest again; her head resting at the top of my breast. I stroked her golden curls and just lay there while the wonderful post orgasmic waves washed over me. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, cuddled up dozing in that blissful thought-free world. Only that eventually I started to feel cold and the floor started to feel very hard. I roused my teenaged model by stroking her luxurious hair. She tipped her adorable face up toward me and I said, "Let's take a shower honey." Under the warm water I started to soap her with the liquid soap and a bath puff. The slightly rough plastic soap applicator gave her skin a rosy hue. I put the puff down and continued to wash her again with bare hands; reveling in the feel of her soft taunt flesh as my hands slid over every part of her gorgeous pubescent body. For several minutes Cherilyn stood more or less still except when I turned her to work on a different side. The teenager not only seemed comfortable with my slippery hands running all over her but from her expression I concluded that she was quite enjoying it. The girl who, such a short time ago, had been mortified to remove her bra seemed to have come a very long way. I was soaping her plump breasts for at least the third time, feeling her pebble hard nipples scrape the soft skin of my palms when she picked up the soapy puff and began to return the favor. She started around my collar bone and fairly quickly worked her way down to the upper slopes of my pendulous breasts. The rough wash tool scraped over my sensitive areolas awakening my dormant nipples. In no time the rubbery pegs of my nipples were standing out proudly again. I had long since dropped the pretense that our showering had much to do with cleansing; although it was certainly doing that as well. I was now blatantly caressing her tits and tweaking her pert strawberry nubs. I saw Cherry apply her upper teeth to her lower lip and I guess it was to suppress a moan. She dropped the puff and took my heavy boobs in her soapy slippery little hands and mimicked what I was doing to her. I can't attest to what my newest model was feeling but for me the rumbling in my lower abdomen and on down into my pussy was increasing in intensity with each stroke of her little fingers over my aroused pegs. "My God Carly ... your nipples are so huge!" she sighed as she wobbled them back and forth. "And sensitive," I grunted as her attention generated a stream of pleasure pulses directly to my clit. "Mine too," she sighed and immediately followed that with a groan as if to validate her point. We played with each other's tits for several minutes, each of us requiring ever increasing amounts of air. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and wrapped my arms around my teenaged bathing companion. I never thought much about my diminutive stature, but as our bodies slid against one another lubricated by the liquid soap, I was glad Cherry and I were very close to the same height. Our mouths were glued together and our tongues caressed and explored extensively while the warm water cascaded over us. With my arms around the teenager my hands inevitably descended to her firm butt. Squeezing and stroking the slick mounds made her squirm against me. 'It's not just her tits that are sensitive' I concluded and started to have lewd and lascivious thoughts. The intensity of her moaning had been gradually increasing. She didn't resist in any way when I turned her around so that her back was toward me. Running my hands up and down the sides of what was rapidly developing into an hourglass figure I whispered in her ear, "Bend over sweetie." To demonstrate what I meant I pushed lightly between her shoulder blades while holding her by one hip. She jackknifed at the waist and put her hands on the shelf that was molded onto the shower stall enclosure. I knelt behind her and ran my hands down the insides of her thighs. "Open" I said loud enough to be heard above the cascading water, while applying some outward pressure. Obediently Cherilyn moved her feet further apart. From my kneeling position on the floor of the shower stall the teenaged butt was practically at eye level. The streaming water had washed all the soap away so I reached onto the shelf that my prey was using for support and retrieved the squeeze bottle. Applying a liberal amount to my hand I protected it from being washed away before I could deposit the load of slippery cleanser in the crack of her ass. I ran two fingers up and down between her cheeks feeling the puckered sphincter muscle twitch as I applied a little pressure. "Aagggrrh," she wailed loudly at the very minimal invasion. "Just relax sweetheart ... it'll feel good ... I promise." I worked one finger past the initial resistance and felt her clamp down on it. The first knuckle was inside her tight little anus. "Ugh, ugh ... ugh ... oh," she grunted and groaned as I pushed further in. "Relax honey ... just relax, it feels good doesn't it?" I had penetrated up to my second knuckle and began a slow in and out twisting motion. With my other hand I poured some of the cold liquid soap between her firm round cheeks. It trickled down and re-lubricated my finger nicely. 'Not the best lube for the job' I said to myself. 'Washes away much too easily, ' but it would do for now. My pussy was quietly purring as I slid my finger in and out. Cherry continued to grunt and groan louder now but made no effort to stop me. As a matter of fact her hips seemed to pick up the rhythm and she was actually pushing back a little to meet my inward thrust. I applied another blob of soap at the top of her crack and when it arrived I used it to facilitate the insertion of a second finger. With two fingers now working in and out of her bum, I reached between her legs, which she had now spread about as far as was possible inside the molded enclosure, and caressed the crease on the other side. Her inner vulva felt really rubbery and kind of weird. Even her natural and copious lubricant couldn't survive the constant deluge of water. Stroking up and down what I was pretty sure was a virginal slit and pumping two fingers up her ass I saw her legs start to shake just before her deafening cry. Her legs crumpled and she wound up kneeling on the plastic floor still holding onto the shelf which was now at approximately eye level to her. I, of course, couldn't follow her pelvis down that low and both of my hands became dislodged when she collapsed. I saw her take one hand off the shelf and clutch at her girlhood as she knelt gasping. I found it interesting that her hips continued to thrust back and forth for several seconds after she had evidently orgasmed. My knees were starting to get sore so I twisted around and sat with my back against the glass door. Shortly afterward Cherry performed a similar maneuver and wound up sitting against the back wall. The dazed and glazed expression on her face said it all. I got to my feet and kissed the stunned teenager on top of her head. Without saying anything I exited the stall, dried off and got dressed. I was pleased with myself for having a stash of fresh panties in the bottom drawer of my desk. I had tidied up around the studio, including picking up and replacing the clothes, which as far as I knew, would one day be picked up by the department store. Cherilyn padded out from the washroom naked. She smiled at me and came over to give me a very firm hug before slipping behind the dressing screen and getting back into her own clothes. When she came out I was holding her back pack. She came toward me for some reason looking a little sheepish. I handed her the pack and put my arm around her shoulders. "You did really, really well today kiddo," I complimented. She looked at me with those incredible baby blues and smiled too. I handed her the five one hundred dollar bills that I'd taken from my safe. "And you are now officially a professional model." Her eyes got really wide and she stared at the Benjamins like she hadn't had that much cash in her hand before. "Sorry I don't have anything smaller ... will you be able to use it without getting into trouble?" She nodded but still looked dazed. I kissed her on top of her damp stringy blonde hair (shame about the 'do') and sort of wondered how she was going explain that. "Don't you need to be getting home?" I asked. It was after six. "Naw, my dad's away on business and my mom won't be home 'til around eight." She sounded a little sad. "Do ya want a lift ... I could drive you?" "Thanks but I think I'd rather walk ... it's not that far. 'Sides my bum still feels funny." I felt better when she giggled after saying that. I handed her another business card, not sure what she'd done with the one I gave her at the coffee shop. "If you feel like doing another session, give me a call." She looked at the card, then back at me. In a very un-teenaged gesture she winked and then she left. I sat down at my desk suddenly feeling exhausted. It had been a physically strenuous day. I shut down my computer, grabbed my bag and headed for home. Mercifully it was a short drive. By the time I was climbing my front steps I had decided that a nap was in order before dinner. I plucked the mail from the mail box and dropped my bag in the front hall. Each of my eyelids weighed about five pounds but I shuffled through the envelopes and dropped them one by one on the dining room table; bill, bill, junk, bill then I spied the hand addressed legal sized white envelop and froze. All of a sudden my eyes were wide open and my overwhelming desire for sleep was gone. It was clearly addressed to me in beautiful handwriting. The thing that lit me up was the return address Duluth Mn. Following leads on the Mitchells whereabouts all over the country was a frustrating hobby; no it was a frustrating obsession. In this day and age it was ironic that the most effective of the multiple methods I used was snail mail. Everybody gets reams of e-mails, many unwanted. With the preponderance of infected messages a lot of people won't even preview a message from an unknown sender. Similarly, all most people get from the post office is junk—junk and bills. It's the bills that made it imperative for a recipient to look at their mail. So it was, that when I got a lead on my long lost surrogate family I would write a letter to the person whom I thought might be able to help. They were always handwritten. Once again, in the age of ubiquitous word processors, that was attention getting; immediately and obviously personal. In the letter I identified myself as a relative trying to track down lost family. I gave my e-mail address and phone number. Less than twenty percent ever got a response, and that was usually a short e-mail saying that I was mistaken in thinking that they knew my relations. But occasionally something valuable in my quest would come. It was how I had managed to track them from place to place all these years. If it was effective in turning up new leads and new information; it was also incredibly slow. That's why I always seemed to be just a little too late. I tore open the envelope with nervous anticipation. Was this it? Had I finally caught up with them? I had been disappointed for so long but I couldn't help but feel the hope surge every time a new lead—scarce as they were—materialized. It was short, a single page of handwritten script. As I read it I could feel my heart swelling until I thought it would burst. When I realized what I was reading I had to stop and get a tissue because it became impossible to read through the tears.
The letter I had written was to a person named Michaels. But it was her ... it was really her. I danced around the house laughing and crying at the same time. When the adrenaline eventually began to wear off I fell on my bed still clutching the letter and passed out. |