Heterosexual Stories

Or; That Time We Fucked Up The Sheets At The Sleep Inn. A Master and slave have a memorable first meeting.

This is a letter I wrote a couple of years ago. It is a true story. I actually had it printed and sealed in an envelope. That envelope was in a larger one addressed to a friend of mine who had reluctantly agreed to hand deliver it to a woman in our hometown. It was to be mailed to him at my death. He died. So, I have no way to get the letter to her without someone in her family seeing it. I have deleted or shortened names of people and places. Sorry, the only sex is implied.