I had been rubbing my eyes as I was thinking of ways to fool Bette into believing I would make an attempt to rid myself of L. (***** ME . . . LIKE THAT WOULD EVER HAPPEN). And when I stopped rubbing and looked over at the tub, she was gone. I was left alone with my own deceptive, conniving thoughts of exorcising L from my system, GOOD.GONE.ALONE AGAIN NATURALLY.NEVER GONNA HAPPEN NO WAYNO HOWNOT IN MY LIFETIME.WHAT THE ***** WERE YOU THINKING BETTE.I MAY HAVE ASKED FOR YOUR HELP BUT I WASNT RATIONAL AT THE TIME OF THE CALL.

I was definitely sure that I had killed enough time to have drip-dried and stood up from the toilet. Sauntering to the linen closet in the hallway and actually thinking about some of the decisions I had falsely agreed to do, I gathered several rolls of tissue paper to replace the missing one and stock the back of the john with a spare.

Making an appointment with my shrink was certainly not a bad idea. I hadnt chatted with her in several weeks and I could use a good dose of Stella Repp . . That ***** is ***** hot . . Not helping me much in finding causes or cures for my lack of mental health but ***** hot nonetheless. Yea, I would give her a call . . .

And letting K know how I feel . . That was something I should do more often for sure. K knows all about my L fetish . . She encourages me to get myself stirred up for her . . .she enjoys the site as much as I do . . . No harm in letting her know just how hot she is, how much I love her and all that good stuff. Yea, I would do that right now.

So I tiptoed back to the computer stopping to don some panties and an oversized mans shirt and began to pen the most sincere, most sexually explicit, the most heart felt love letter I could possibly create. And it was awesome, if I must say so myself. I told K everything I wanted her to know, leaving out a few things she didnt need to know. After reading and re-reading it several times I knew it would make her cry, make her happy, make her wet, and make her want to ***** my brains out again. Yea, it was that good.

I sat tall in the chair and rubbed my hands together anxious to send the letter via e-mail to her, totally surprising her I had no doubt. And to be honest I still am not quite sure what actually made me faint with paralyzing fear . . . Was it the sound of a text message buzzing as I hit the send button on the computer? Was it turning to see K sleepily and blindly reach for the phone as it buzzed the awaiting text? Or was it the message on the computer screen I read after I sent the e-mail which flashed YOUR MESSAGE HAS BEEN SUCCESSFULLY SENT TO KS MOM????????

T B C . . . . .