You search for the letter you were reading before but can’t find it so you pick one at random. It is my first letter to you, the one where I tell you in my clear prose that I need you more then I need air to breath. I write of my love and how it grew from a modest affection, to a full-blown obsession, I loved you in spite of my sexuality not because of it. Then I go on to list all the reasons you are the one I was made for, and how I could make you happy. Your interest has grown from simple curiosity to a quest for something you can’t even describe. Then as you feel the spark of something you get to the last line, ‘which is why I can never tell you how I feel, if you didn’t reciprocate my emotions I think I would die.’ And a tear forms in your left eye, followed by several more. The next few hours are a blur as you read dozens of my pages, thousands of my words. At the bottom of the box you find an audiotape with your name on it. Hesitating slightly you place it gently into your car. Brenda smiled to herself as she contemplated reenacting that eventful night. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through her body and a hint of wetness grew between her legs. She wondered how she would tear Mitch away from the television though.The last several weeks, Mitch had seemed distraught and distant. Brenda wasn't sure what was wrong, but Mitch was spending more and more time in front of the television, screaming at the teams that were losing. She didn't pay much attention to that, dismissing it as tension relief from the stresses of work. Little did Brenda know, Mitch had been hiding a deep, dark secret from her the entire time they knew each other.As Brenda was cleaning, the doorbell rang. Brenda looked in on Mitch, who was so preoccupied with the television that he didn't hear the buzzer, and made her way to the large foyer. Looking through the colored panes of glass on either side of the door, Brenda vaguely made out the figure of several gentlemen, apparently dressed.
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