I can feel electrical jolts zinging towards my pussy as I write you this letter. I can feel the familiar trickle of arousal on my leg as I think about...it. I don’t care about the photograph of your boring wife you keep in your wallet. Yeah, I’ve seen it. Forget about her, she can’t do the things to you that I can. You know those moments when you look at me, and I’m sliding my pen in and out of my hot, little mouth? Well, I’m not attempting to work out the answer to your question. I’m pretending. Those were two things in short supply in my life.Until I had my epiphany the night before, I hadn't realized how "stealing" Brian's body had eaten at me. I now found peace with the explanation that unless these things occurred exactly as they had, Jennifer would have died an early death. That made enough sense and appealed to my romantic nature - even if it was only a "designer explanation," made only for me, as Doctor Abrams would say.Mr. and Mrs. Bell were watching TV in the living room when. More

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