So I published the poem under the pen-name Wendy and sent him an email asking him to keep in touch, and let me know how things were going. And send so...e more poems!I heard nothing more.A year or so later, a reader asked me about "Wendy". My curiosity was piqued. I asked a friend of mind, a computer whizz, if he could find the home address from the email address.He could. It was outside a small fishing port on the coast of East Anglia. I won't say exactly where, but it was a semi-detached right. Her: (Hear her sucking, spiting saliva on her fingers) Oh fuck I need this so bad…Ahhh fuck…that’s one all the way in…feels so fucking good slowly fucking…ahh yes….Fuck two fingers, deep in my pussy… tight making my clit itch oh fuck Simon this is good….Arrrgh fucking myself with three fingers …so fucking tight lips moving with each push…(squishy sounds)…oh mmmm ohh fuck.Simon: That’s so hot Carla, fuck your tight little cunt hard, now wet the middle fingers on your other hand get them really. Looking around he saw that the other six were also experiencing a somewhat less convulsions. The idiots! They were powerful yes, though Sam was as strong as four of them. Then again, the Doctor thought looking at the readings, it was obvious that this Sam had increased more.With a shake his arachnid head the Doctor could see that he himself was going to have to get involved. A feeling of dread that he hadn't felt in a very, very long time started to creep into his mind and body.A sudden beeping. "Why dont you take that t-shirt off then. I wont mind its your house and its not as if Ive not seen you before in the garden working!" Emma blushed a little when she said this. Had she been spying on me the same way I had with her?"Well I dont think I should, you might get the wrong idea?" I joked. Emma got a strange look in her eye when I had said this. She stood up and put her cig out before walking over to me. When she stood in front of me my hart was working over time. Emma put a leg either.