I Hope You Are Well

Chaos. Such a short and concise word. It seems too small to contain within itself a concept so broad in scope, so unfathomable, yet so familiar. Everything, anything and even nothing at all, all at once.

Chaos. All encompassing, ever present. Everything and everyone is subjected to chaos. The problem, though, the actual terror of being thrust into it is its absolute lack of awareness. It is not sentient. It does not operate within any kind of logical framework. The human mind reels at such enormity so completely void of any kind of direction or meaning.

Random and irrational. Uncertain and untamable. No leviathan can conjure greater dread than that which chaos can evoque given the absolute depravity of uncertainty it entails.

For it is amidst this chaotic existence, that we both find ourselves and each other in. It is not the first of these absurd realities that occupy my mind, even if it might seem the harshest of the two. That insidious, absorbing thought that has been found to be impossible to cast out of this beseeched mind of mine, happens to be related to the second of those aforementioned states of being.

We found each other.

Have you ever stopped to think about the implications of mere existence, dear reader? Forget about the astronomical odds that the single sperm that gave you fifty percent of your genetic material, had to beat. Forget about the ridiculous odds that the egg and sperm that completed your conception had found their way at the same place at the same time. Have you ever realized that for you to be, to exist, there had to be an unbroken string of humans that came before you, who not only survived past childhood and into reproductive age, but also were able to find a mate (which also had to survive until that point), reproduce and ensure the survival of the product so it would, in turn, reach reproductive age, find a mate, reproduce, ensure the survival of the product... Thus perpetuating the human cycle ad infinitum.

This unbroken line of people, your direct ancestors, goes back through time immemorial. Can you even imagine how unlikely such a fact is? How many things had to coincide for it to be as it happens to be? That, my friend, is chaos.

Furthermore, every single occurrence, every single decision has led to you being who you are, to what you are and to where you are. Add to that some chaos: all those myriad things you can't control, all those situations and realities that exist beyond your grasp.

Despite, and yet as a result of all this chaos around our collective existence, we found each other. Not in a physical or even direct way, but through this site and this pathetic little story I find myself compelled to write in this stormy night. The same boring little story that you are reading now, in my future which is simultaneously, your present.

What are the chances? Not much. A great deal of chance and coincidences had brought us to this point. Both of us finding this site, for starters. Me finding the inspiration to write this nonsense and consequently uploading it to the site. You finding such an obscure little story and reading it. What's more, what are the chances of anybody still reading up to this point? Slimmer and slimmer.

What is chance if not chaos? Or at least an aspect of it. It is simply chaos happening to randomly take a certain shape. A series of random actions and situations that took things to be the way they end up being. That is where the whole unbearability of its inherent lightness stems from.

Questions. An abundance of questions. Few answers if any, at all. They are always assaulting me, morphing, evolving. However there are seldom any answers at hand. A great deal of those questions revolve around her.

We found each other, she and I, despite and because of chaos. Through mere chance and fortune. I say fortune because it ended up being a beautiful thing we both cherished for a long time. However, that which chaos brought together, it also created the conditions for it to be forsaken.

I've always dwelled in the almost impossibility of us being aware of the existence of each other. Continents apart. Born 16 years apart. Each of us having a life of our own. Alas, that fateful day, so long ago, it now seems, you read my post and decided to answer it.

In hindsight, it even feels fated. Though we should note that chaos has no design nor will nor conscience. Only randomly occurrences overlapping ad nauseum, for ever.

I didn't expect much from that post. It was written almost as an afterthought. However, you sent me a message. You thought I might not be interested in talking to you. My reaction was immediately thinking that you would probably end up not interested in talking to me.

It became apparent after a few days of back and forth messaging, that you were nothing if not a delightful surprise. We talked about everything and anything. I should say that you were probably the one best thing that I got from having been forced to learn English at school. I was not able to carry a conversation in your native language and you did not speak my language. So English had to do. I enjoyed helping you with your English. That gave way to a few fun misunderstandings which led to lengthy explanations of whatever had not been understood by whatever party, to clarify.

We became fast friends (at least from my perspective). Spending hours chatting, having a good, wholesome time every day. I believe I told you this before, but I was very surprised when it was you who first steered the conversation towards, let's call it sex related topics. I had been respectful and kept away from any sexual themes. You asked me about what I read in literotica. We started discussing what things we liked to read (and listen to, in your case). It all snowballed out of our control from there.

I was impressed by your trust and candor. You opened up to me in such a wonderful, truly beautiful way. Especially after I told you my dark, evil secrets. You were so excited when I told you that I was into bdsm and I practiced it regularly in real life. You seem truly fascinated by, as you put it, "knowing a real life Dom".

Immediately, you started asking questions. You assumed my wife was my sub and asked me what kind of a sub she was. I replied with the truth, thinking you would be offended or shocked. I was certain you would judge me for stepping out of my marriage and having more than one bdsm relationship with other women. I told you I was a bad person for doing so, being apologetic about it. Not only were you not judgmental, but you were so understanding, supportive even. I found it so touching.

Our budding friendship soon morphed into a strong, trusting friendship. We became confidants. We still talked about food, culture and all the many subjects that interested or frustrated us. But more and more we talked about our lives: our past, our present, our families. We got to enjoy the process of getting to really know each other.

You suggested role play, as an activity we could do together. You made up this plot about a naïve woman stranded on a deserted island with a Pirate. You seemed to like the fact that

I had my character talk like a XVIIIth century English man. I kept complicating the plot. We had a fun couple of days. That's until the accident. It was not part of the plan. In our own little world that you created, the pirate was finally taking the fair maiden, ripping off her innocence by tearing her hymen. Our little, nasty creations were eagerly frolicking around. Getting to know each other, carnally.

I had my character order your character to cum for me. That's when it happened. An accident of frightening proportions that changed our friendship forever. You came! In real life. Twice! Hard.

It was so unexpected it was shocking even. I felt both elated and worried. You were baffled, excited but also scared, confused and upset. I tried my best to make sure you were OK. I feared for your mental state, your well being and for the future of our friendship. Those unexpected orgasms brought guilty feelings to your heart. I could totally understand that. I blamed myself for making you feel confused and guilty.

The immediate aftermath of this unforeseen event was that for a day our two, our friendship felt a little strained. We ended up ignoring the awkwardness and talked about it. Little did we know, at that point, that our relationship would never be the same afterwards. It morphed into something stronger, something new. I laugh now about it but only because I now have the benefit of hindsight. I can now look back and find it amusing, thanks to all those memories of listening and watching you cum for me time and time again. In all kinds of places.

I am grateful for those memories, yet now they are embedded in a fog of bittersweet melancholy.

Once you came to terms with 'the incident' and you were OK with what had transpired, you let me know that you wanted to take our relationship into sexual grounds... We started 'playing'. I started making you, the good catholic girl, mother and wife, blush. You know how I loved to make you blush. It is such a tender sight. Your fair skin suddenly going a deep shade of red. The beauty of that embarrassed face of yours. The subdued fire in those gorgeous eyes.

Although we found ourselves adding new dimensions to our friendship, we didn't take it for granted. It had been our friendship what had unexpectedly led us into a rapidly growing cyber affair. It was not all "playing". Our conversations did not change all that much. We kept on talking about our respective days, we would send each other pictures of what we had for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You always blew my mind with the culinary creations you were capable of making. And in turn, I really enjoyed making you wet while you were cooking. Sometimes you would make me so proud when you confessed that you had to change your panties because they were so drenched, they were useless and uncomfortable. It became a beautiful, sexy sport. Making you so wet you had to change your panties. You were such a good girl, my darling.

We had a great run, didn't we? I remember it fondly. Years of sharing an intense connection, an intimate friendship and a torrid long distance affair. I miss it all. I miss you, my beloved friend.

You confessed that you were falling for me. You were confused and a little scared. I tried to be supportive. It was completely understandable. Another bump in our story. A new curved ball thrown at us by the chaos, shaking our sturdy relationship. You learned to accept it, I believe. From that moment on, our emotional connection became stronger. Love, a brand new unexpected and surprising arrival.

I will always be grateful for your moral support and wise advice during hard times. On my part, I always strived to be as good a friend to you as you were to me. I hope I was able to make your life a little better. That I was a true friend to you. We would always listen to each other. We would complain about our problems, celebrate our achievements, share our joy, anger, misery, sadness, good news, bad news, marital troubles... Everything. We were there for each other.

As time went by, we had our good moments and our bad times. At some point I could no longer spend most of my time with you. I had obligations that I had been neglecting and I couldn't keep neglecting them any more. You felt that I was neglecting you. There were even accusations of abandonment. I tried my best to get you to change that unfortunate perspective. I don't know if I was successful in that endeavor. We were able to get through it together.

We went through some other problems. We weathered the storms and kept on going.

There were many happy times too. More than the difficult ones. So many smiles inspired. More laughter than we could count. Multiple orgasms that I helped you achieve. Forcing you to blush a myriad of times. Being all those things that we were to each other...

Everything is subject to chaos. Chaos brought us together. Chaos tore us apart. I woke up that morning, like any other. I checked your messages, like I did every day for the last 4 years. You wrote saying goodbye. You told me you were heartbroken but you were forced to put an end to us. I was shocked. I wrote a small reply saying that I didn't like it but I understood that you were being put in a position where you had to leave me and that I would cease contacting you to avoid further trouble.

Since then, a year and a half has gone by. I regularly think about you. I find myself constantly wondering how you are doing, how you are feeling. I feel constantly disappointed. I hope it was easier for you.

The aftermath of that Era of our lives when chaos threw us together, for me is a constant barrage of questions. So many questions I have no answer for. You know that I always want to know everything. It hurts not to be able to find answers.

I hope you are doing well, baby.