This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of my imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or events is coincidental. All the characters are over the age of 18.
PROLOG
It is 5:30 am.
I turn on the coffee maker and take some birdseed outside to the bird feeder. It is very misty this morning in Florida. On my way back to the house, I heard an email notification. Who would be sending me something this early? I click my email client open to the message.
"I can use a sweet verbal hug and kiss, and I don't object to occasionally hearing what a dear, close friend would love to do with me, shrouded in early morning mist before the sun burns it off."
It is from a dear friend who lives in Georgia. This is a curious message. I took a sip of my coffee and wrote back.
"Your words this early morning have me under your spell. I remember you when time stood still; we were immortal in our youth. Sometimes, there is magic in the morning mist. Sit beside me with your coffee and let us imagine. I put my arm around you, hug you, and whisper how I have longed to hold you this way. I move toward your sweet lips, and we kiss."
I hit send, and I am waiting for her response.
I care about and for you. My request to know what you would love to do with me is not performative. While we are dear friends, there once was more than magic between us. I remember seeing it in your eyes. Please touch me, hold me, please me.
My words flow with feeling.
We adjourn to the bedroom, and you take off your nightgown. I pulled off my housecoat. It is warm and comfortable in this room now with both of us standing nude. It will be dawn soon, and the misty moonlight floods the room, glazing our bodies with pale blue light.
I wait in anticipation of her response, and it is here...
I see you as an artist looking at every inch of my body and longing to touch me in all those special places. Perhaps some new places, building toward something never before experienced.
I feel the passion of this moment, and I type.
My silent observation of the nude curves of your body in the moonlight delights me. I gently reach for both of your hands, and we lock our eyes. My gaze drifts down to your breasts and lingers, then down your body. I pull you toward me in a hug. Our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You let off a deep breath as I kiss your neck.
The heat is building in my groin. I wait again for her response.
I know there is still deep passion between us. Can your words awaken those ghosts of desire? I will surrender to you and let you do what you want with me.
I know what to type next.
I feel your deep breaths on my shoulder, the hug leads to your waiting lips, and I kiss you. You drive your tongue deep into my mouth, holding the back of my head with your hand. The connection is deeper than you imagined. Your foot is sliding against my foot and ankle. Your knee is pushing the inside of my leg, causing an electrical connection of desire.