Authors: Michel Farnac
Michel
had
realized
that
this
(prepared)
tirade
was
all
rather
blunt,
but
for
reasons
already
evoked,
his
patience
was
in
short
supply.
As
it
turned
out,
all
in
all
Alexander
seemed
much
more
relaxed
after
that
conversation
and
soon
enough
he
played
no
part
at
all
in
the
affair
that
Michel
would
have
with
Cathy,
as
he
would
continue
to
call
her
when
speaking
with
Alexander.
Since
this
is
the
last
mention
of
him,
it
should
be
noted
now
that
Alexander
did
reform
his
ways
and
save
his
marriage.
Despite
his
harsh
rhetoric,
Michel
did
intend
to
help
Catherine
transition
away
from
her
previous
affair
if
he
were
to
connect
emotionally,
but
as
a
self-‐serving
gesture.
One
should
not
share
a
woman
with
two
other
men,
and
he
had
the
utmost
respect
for
Catherine’s
marriage.
And
so
he
carefully
orchestrated
the
beginnings
of
their
affair,
message
after
message,
call
after
call,
starting
perhaps
with
the
aforementioned
books.
They
discussed
the
progression
of
the
plot
of
the
Roquelaure
book
and
as
he
probed
her
reading
of
the
text,
he
paralleled
each
of
her
reactions
with
one
of
his
own.
He
teased
her
a
little
at
her
constant
surprise
at
his
remarks.
How
could
one
expect
the
same
reading
from
a
man
and
a
woman,
he
chided
her,
since
a
man
would
identify
with
the
male
characters,
clearly
the
masters,
while
a
woman
would
identify
with
Beauty,
the
object
of
servile
sexual
bondage
with
the
declared
purpose
of
feudal
submissiveness.
But
she
listened
transfixed
as
he
expounded
his
main
point.
Well
warned,
she
had
indeed
disengaged
from
the
narrative
well
before
the
end
and
had
finished
it
with
a
detached
pleasure,
not
sure
if
she
would
read
the
sequel
but
not
adverse
to
the
idea.
For
most
people,
he
explained,
these
are
mere
fantasies,
and
while
they
more
than
have
their
place
in
human
experience
and
sometimes
even
in
high
literature,
they
belong
in
books.
The
very
fact
of
their
disengagement
was
proof
that
neither
of
them
was
interested
in
such
things
beyond
simple
curiosity.
In
the
days
that
followed,
their
conversations
evoked
more
simple
pleasures
as
they
explored
the
multitude
of
similarities
in
tastes
and
liking
that
emerged
between
them:
love
of
food,
love
of
music,
their
longing
for
human
touch,
a
fascination
for
rituals.
And
sex.
A
burning
need
to
talk
about
it
unbridled,
uninhibited,
as
only
lovers
could
but
somehow
never
do.
They
talked
about
having
sex
with
others
and
with
each
other.
Their
overnight
message
exchanges
fast
became
torrid.
It
was
in
response
to
her
fear
that
e-‐mail
was
an
impersonal
medium
that
he
warned
her
that
things
could
get
vivid,
which
inspired
her
next
message,
un-‐prefaced
and
unsigned.
“I
drove
home
last
night
in
a
state
of
high
excitement.
Conversation
with
you
has
a
very
powerful
effect
on
me.
My
husband
was
already
in
bed
but
not
asleep.
I
removed
my
clothes
(all
but
my
panties
-‐
not
my
usual
bedtime
attire).
He
noticed,
but
I
attributed
it
to
the
heat
and
humidity.
It
is
after
all
fairly
late
and
we
both
have
to
rise
early
in
the
morning.
I
wait
until
I
hear
his
deep
breathing
and
then
I
allow
my
left
hand
to
brush
across
my
right
breast.
Ahhh….your
voice
comes
back
to
me
and
I
hope
that
you
also
are
thinking
of
how
I
might
be
touching
myself
at
this
moment.
I
lay
my
other
hand
on
top
of
my
mound
and
give
myself
to
the
awakening
sensations
-‐
like
an
electric
current
that
runs
downward
from
my
breast
to
my
secret
place.
After
several
moments
of
savoring
those
feelings,
I
slip
off
my
panties
and
reach
into
my
nightstand
for
my
favorite
lubricant.
My
silky,
wet
middle
finger
brushes
lightly
across
my
maiden
hair
and
probes
slightly.
I
imagine
you
watching
with
close
attention.
After
engaging
in
this
action
for
some
minutes,
I
make
the
decision
to
leave
my
bed.
I
close
the
bedroom
door
and
walk
into
the
bathroom.
A
nightlight
gently
illuminates
the
room.
I
stand
naked
and
exposed
before
the
mirror,
and
again
think
of
you
observing
me.
My
fingers
move
to
my
mouth
and
I
caress
my
breast
with
their
wet
warmth.
I
continue
to
stimulate
myself
with
my
other
hand
as
I
begin
to
feel
waves
of
sensation
sweeping
through
my
body.
As
I
climax,
I
bend
as
if
to
draw
all
of
myself
into
that
pool
of
ecstasy………….”
After
sending
this,
she
felt
electrified.
Right
he
was,
she
thought,
things
could
get
vivid,
and
she’d
be
right
there
with
him.
But
as
it
turns
out,
it
was
he
who
was
right
there
with
her
as
his
response
demonstrated.
“I
drove
home
last
night
in
a
state
of
high
excitement.
I
realized
when
I
hung
up
that
I
was
still
at
home.
Conversation
with
you
has
a
very
powerful
effect
on
me.
Conversation
with
you
has
a
very
powerful
effect
on
me.
My
husband
was
already
in
bed
but
not
asleep.
I
am
alone
but
for
the
cat;
she
lays
still
on
my
bed
but
not
asleep.
I
removed
my
clothes
(all
but
my
panties
-‐
not
my
usual
bedtime
attire).
I
remove
my
clothes
(my
usual
bedtime
attire).
He
noticed,
but
I
attributed
it
to
the
heat
and
humidity.
The
cat
didn’t
notice:
she’s
used
to
it.
It
is
after
all
fairly
late
and
we
both
have
to
rise
early
in
the
morning.
It
is
still
early,
and
morning
is
very,
very
far
from
my
mind.
I
lay
my
other
hand
on
top
of
my
mound
and
give
myself
to
the
awakening
sensations
-‐
like
an
electric
current
that
runs
downward
from
my
breast
to
my
secret
place.
I
imagine
you
watching
with
close
attention.
I
am
taking
in
every
detail.
After
engaging
in
this
action
for
some
minutes,
I
make
the
decision
to
leave
my
bed.
I
close
the
bedroom
door
and
walk
into
the
bathroom.
I
follow
your
every
footstep…
A
nightlight
gently
illuminates
the
room.
I
bask
in
the
warm
glow
of
your
grace.
I
stand
naked
and
exposed
before
the
mirror,
and
again
think
of
you
observing
me.
The
mirror
is
my
eyes,
you
stand
before
me
naked,
exposed,
in
offering,
and
I
am
moved,
humbled
by
this
gift,
for
however
undeserving
I
may
be,
in
this
moment
your
are
mine.
My
fingers
move
to
my
mouth
and
I
caress
my
breast
with
their
wet
warmth.
My
phallus
is
hard
as
marble,
hot
as
lava.