I said I would not have sex until after the specialist appointment next week, from fear not instruction. But damn. It is hard to say no to him. And he's sick not dead. And there is something to be said for that kind of sex. Sweet and intense and life affirming. A little more rocking and closeness and pressed chest to chest and a little less acrobatics. A few more words and affirmations of affection and loyalty and passion and a lot more kissing and two heartbeats mashed together and...I said I wouldn't do it but I did. And I don't regret it. And it's his fault anyhow. That's my story and I'm sticking to it...
XOXO
Sommer
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I just had a flashback to after Sam's surgery. When he shouldn't have. When we really weren't supposed to. When we said, Oh, fucking hell...
That can be the best sex ever.
Rebelliously yours,
Alison
Aw... I adore you guys.
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