To Whom It May Concern:
The fire built a wall against her face. It melted each layer of Libby’s smooth skin and charred her bones as I pelvic thrusted her further into the heat. Mr. Ashley’s blood ran cool down her ass crack as she did her final clench. Red smeared along the base of my wet penis to mix with Libby’s clear juices. The flame’s smoke put its thick tentacles around my neck, forced my head back, and slipped its tip down my throat. The black in my lungs twisted and stole my air. It made my chest tight until I could not breathe. Although I could easily blink the burning pain aside to focus on the pleasure, tears washed down my cheeks because Libby no longer had any to dry a single spark, while I had enough to flow a river.
The pressure was finally at ease. For the first time in fourteen days there was no irritation. The sensation of her warm walls around me was a kind dessert that was made better by a savory dinner.
Before the night’s blaze, the sun was the day’s fire. Jarred and I were fighting on Auntie’s front porch about how I’d been acting like a fool for too long. He was right. I carried on as if he were so wrong, but sir or madam he was so correct. I was a fraud. I was wearing a mask that bore a sticker of an asthma inhaler on the side next to my right ear. Soon after we turned blue from screaming, he punched me in that sticker. It was the shocking crunch of Jarred’s hairy knuckles on that sticker made me realize…I must teach him what he thinks he already knows. I must rip my own saran wrap covering.
I remember the shoulder impact when I tackled Jarred down the porch steps. We landed in the honeysuckle that tangled in the fence aligned with cinderblocks. He was afraid of how I leered down at his face. Despite the many times we fought, I never hit Jarred. He struggled and failed to unpin himself while, his eyes evaded my face.
“What are you doing, Jared?” I held his wrists up and undid his pants.
“Stop.” A belt, a single zipper, and one snap all fell apart.
“Get off of me.” His body wretched.
I said all of these things to him once. He never failed to do his own will; I returned the favor. After I broke his wrists by smashing the cinderblocks on them, I tied his wrists with his belt then turned him over.
“Now you must feel the real me too,” I breathed in his ear.
I put my dick in him as he screamed. I kept pumping and growing inside his anus. He kept screaming. He sounded like a pop song overplayed on the radio. “Hello…from the butt side AHHHH…”
When I pulled out, shit poured out seconds later. There was some blood around his torn hole too. Auntie left her apron on the hook because she as having a post-bible study fuck session with Mr. Ashley. I grabbed it and wiped Jarred up.
“I love you, brother,” I said after kissing him on the mouth.
If you’re wondering, Jarred left and Auntie still wears that apron.
P. S. No one in my life wants to be bothered by my asthma.
How are you, brother? My spirit is grieving for Libby. Mr. Ashley doesn’t deserve a letter from me. In the end Libby didn’t either, but I still love her. Thinking of Mr. Ashley makes me smile now. Whenever I remember ripping that pubic wig from around his asshole, I laugh with whatever air I can. It was the ultimate bittersweet. Cutting off his dick then placing it in the love of my life…
It was everything she claimed I could never give her. That’s why I did it, Jarred. That is why I scratched my itch…again. The first time was just for me and the second time was only for Libby.
You are my brother, but I am no longer yours. The itch took me from you by making the subconscious into reality, while reality becomes forgettable subconscious. For two weeks I barely floated with my nose poking out of the water, until you snatched me out of the water.
After stumbling through the door one midnight in a fake drunken stupor and my clothes reeking of badoosey, you hit me. The instant sting of having your fist on my jaw made my whole face hot. 14 days passed of me walking in the door, reeking, stumbling and slugging. I couldn’t move at first, due to the shock; you were looking directly at me. There was nowhere to go. There was nothing to be said. I was caught and the last find out about it.
13 days, were spent rubbing that spot. Scratching was overdue. On Day 14 it was time to feel good.
With lots of love,
P. S. Most things are about my asthma, this is a big one.
P. S. S. You must understand I’m not writing these letters to hurt you.