Dear Katie,
Katie, it's me, Theresa . . . Terri . . . you know , from last night. Oh God, of course you know. Oh God, Katie. I don't even know where to begin.
I woke up this morning really late. As I began to wake up, it was like I had been having the most wonderful dream ever. I felt so happy, so relaxed, so . . . perfectly exhausted. That's when I remembered. It took a few moments to sort out the memories, then a few more to convince myself they were real. I reached down between my legs and felt the slight morning soreness I hadn't experienced in a while.
Suddenly the power of what had happened hit me. My eyes flew open and I looked wildly around the bedroom. Where were you? Where was Roger? I almost jumped up to run madly through the house looking for you, but then I remembered you kneeling by the bed and telling me goodbye.
I tried to feel the joy I had experienced such a few hours ago, and for a moment, I was lifted up to a beautiful place. Then, I looked at the empty space on the bed next to me, and in a way that I never would have imagined, I missed you very, very much . . . almost too much to bear. I started to cry, and I've been crying off and on for the last hour.
I feel better now. I feel better enough to sit here and write to you. I feel happy enough now to try to thank you, and Roger, for a gift far beyond anything I expected. God Katie, who are you people? Where did you come from? Why did you choose me? And . . . can I please, please see you again. Please!
I know, you said that wasn't the idea. I know you don't want to start a relationship. I know . . . there may be . . . others. But please Katie, I have to see you, at least one more time. Maybe I can stand it if I don't see Roger again, I know he's yours, but I need to see you. I need to talk to you about what happened, what I felt, how I'm supposed to find that again.
I have to, you know. If that's what you were trying to show me, you succeeded. Oh, I know you and Roger were purposefully trying to create an ideal experience. I know I may never have that exact same experience again. But Katie, it feels like my body, my very soul, is on fire. I need help coming down again. I can't stand being here alone, trying to make sense of what happened. Please Katie, call me. I need to see you. I need your help.
If I hadn't already had second thoughts about what we had done with Terri, her e-mail certainly brought them out in full force. I was pretty sure I knew what she was feeling, and that actually did make it impossible not to see her. We'd created an obligation now, a bigger responsibility than I had imagined. Maybe I could handle this with one quick visit. I sure hoped so.
Roger agreed that it would be wrong for him to go, so I got in the car and drove the 75 miles to Terri's house. I had time to think on the way, but no amount of time was going to be enough to predict what Terri was going to need from me.
She was standing in the doorway before I could even get out of the car. To her credit, she managed not to run to me, but waited until I entered her house and she closed the door. She turned to me, her eyes wet, took several steps toward me, and almost collapsed into my arms.
I held her for a moment, hoping this would pass, but as her crying got more intense, her knees began to weaken. There didn't seem to be any option.
"Come on, Terri, let's go upstairs. You need to lie down." I helped her up to her bedroom, led her to the bed and sat on the edge next to her. She turned to put her head in my lap, and I let her cry. She wasn't close to hysterical, so I felt a little more comfortable, but she clearly needed to get rid of some of the intense emotions she was feeling.
It was strange, sitting here on the bed of a woman my own age, holding her as if she were a little child. I let my hand move to her head, and as she slowly dealt with her reactions to last night, I stroked her hair, soothing her, reassuring her. She moved her arms to encircle my hips, her face nearly buried between my thighs. There was nothing erotic about her actions, but it was disconcerting, especially after the intimacy we had shared less than 24 hours ago.
I turned to move her face away from my lap, and found it easiest just to lie down beside her. She snuggled up against me, but now her face was buried softly against my breasts. Oh well, I thought, I owe her this. I let her relax against me, her crying now almost stopped.
Finally, she began to talk about last night. It wasn't what I had wanted, but as she described to me the wonder that Roger's touch had inspired in her, I found it excited me to remember it, myself. Her descriptions of his tender caresses, her amazement at how her body had reacted to him, it was all familiar to me, but somehow new, hearing it from her.
I could tell she was getting herself excited, simply by remembering Roger's hands. I was getting a little nervous, but I knew this was what she needed to do . . . to talk about it, to relive it apart from the reality. I could tell she had one hand between her legs. She didn't appear to be playing with herself, but it was obvious she was visualizing things that had to be intensely erotic.
Her voice as she talked was low and heavy. At one point, she raised one of her hands to my chest. The top button of my blouse was open, and before I could stop her, she let her fingers run down my sternum to the top of my cleavage. I knew she had gotten herself excited, but I wasn't about to let her start something with me, so I reached around under her arm, and took her hand off my chest.
She let me move her hand, but as I tried to put her hand back on her own stomach, she stopped it at her chest and placed my hand on her breast. It seemed a little ridiculous to protest too much, after what we'd already shared before, so I let my hand lie gently over her breast as she continued her story of how Roger had made her feel.
She was now into the memories of what she had felt as Roger had spread her legs, crawled between her thighs, and prepared to slide inside her. Terri had now opened her legs slightly and her hand was moving slowly against herself. I wondered if I ought to try to stop her, but it just didn't seem fair. As her voice continued, her breathing got even more deep. The images were getting to me, too, and I had to admit to myself that I was feeling sensations between my legs that made me even more sympathetic to Terri's excitement.
Almost without realizing it, I found my hand had slid down the front of Terri's blouse, and I was running my fingers across the tops of her breasts. She moaned and tried to push herself higher against my hand. "Terri . . . " I began. I didn't know what to do.