Having said that to myself, I finally put pen to paper and began to share with her, even if it wasn't to be known immediately my hearts most wicked th...ughts.We'd drawn cards to see who would go first, a precautionary measure from springing any planned surprises simultaneously, though the odds of that remote. Remaining flexible as well, swapping turns as it were should the circumstance or opportunity to do something thus taking precedence.I had drawn her first slip, enjoying the curious look,. There was nothing pornographic or even overtly sexual about this picture, but it spoke volumes to me. I knew they’d deliberately posed it to press every button in my kinky mind, but that did little to dampen the impact it had on me. my adrenaline-addled brain I stared at the photo for a long time, and the longer I stared at it the more intense my feelings were. It suddenly dawned on me that I’d spent so long reading and re-reading the texts and looking at the images that I’d not replied to. I froze for a second, thinking that maybe Sarah just wanted to be friends and I had said too much, gone too far. To say the least there was a long, awkward moment of silence. “I like you, Michael. I thought of you many times when I was overseas.” There was a pause as the waitress approached to see if we wanted another drink. We ordered two more. I waited, anticipating a qualifying “but” before she spoke again. “I wanted to call you when I was in Chicago. I wanted to call you as soon as I. Tim had moved into the house next door at the beginning of the year. He was single, a little older than Mark and I, and a businessman of some sort whose work required constant travel during the week but that returned him home every Friday evening in time for the next morning's baking. Summer arrived, and the redolent yeast and wheat and caraway seeds and rye and cardamom hung in the barely moving air for just that much longer. They were "our" Saturdays then, as much a ritual for me as Mark's.