She was also very careful never really touching me even though we sat there sharing our intimate thoughts. And so ended that evenings little adventure...doing nothing more than speaking erotically. I returned home to sit in bed and contemplate just how crazy Maggie was causing me to become.On Friday I received another note. But this one simply said, "Sleep tight, see you in the morning around nine, please come a few minutes early. Bring your hard-on, Maggie".I was so nervous and excited that. I could tell he was getting closer to spilling his load because all his muscles were becoming very taut, so I started helping him by bouncing a little myself, and that extra friction was so nice that I could feel another orgasm welling up myself, and started moaning again. He loves to hear me moan, so that brought him closer to the brink as well, but I could tell he was holding off for me to catch up. I was getting there fast so I bit him on the shoulder to signal I was there, and he lunged so. Not from anyone in particular, just keep a secret from the audible world, trying as hard as possible not to acknowledge it. Until we had to acknowledge it. Occasionally, one of us would feel a flash of weakness, and as if the universe was goading us, when one of us felt the weakness, it usually meant the other was feeling that same weakness. One of us would knock on the other’s door and the conversation would always be the same, albeit with the roles being reversed from time to time.“Hey.. I asked how old they had been, and was told that they must have been at least 60. Laughing, I said that there was hope for me yet then! She took my hands and looked me straight in the eyes, and told me that she certainly hoped so. I was speechless for at least a couple of seconds and just stared at her. Then with a squeeze of her hands, I told her that if she was serious, then so was I, and maybe it was time to leave. She agreed, and as we were leaving, I told her that she would have to be my.
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