I do have some news that I haven’t gotten to share yet, even though you just texted me. Bacon and eggs for breakfast? Good job.
The divorce is final. Jules and Cliff are officially splits. That was pretty fast, apparently. Cliff didn’t fight it. Jules wanted it over with. I feel bad about how all that went down, but Mom officially owns the Colorado house and I’m officially under her guardianship until my parole ends.
Which, as you know, is next fucking week.
So our parents are done. You know what that means, right?
We’re no longer stepsiblings.
We no longer have an illicit relationship.
Is that fucking weird? Do you still want to fuck me? I have to be honest; most of the appeal was the taboo part. It was wrong, you know? Really fucking dirty. I loved going down on my stepsister right under her dad’s nose. Now that you’re just another girl, I don’t know. Seems like it lost its appeal.
Just kidding.
I love going down on you. And the stepsibling thing was more annoying than sexy. Okay, maybe at first it was pretty sexy, but I’m done with that.
Another text? I didn’t even answer the first one. I had cereal for breakfast.
I had another dream about you last night. I guess it came from our Skype convo. Your hair was really long, and we were both laying in the backyard here, completely naked. We wrapped ourselves in your hair, it was like Rapunzel length or some shit, and you started going down on me. I kept saying, “The hair will move the hair will move,” but you didn’t care. I stopped caring too as soon as you slipped your wet little pussy down on my cock. We fucked like that in the meadow, surrounded by your hair, like we were in some weird cocoon.
I woke up with the biggest fucking morning wood ever. But you already know that, considering I sent you like ten pics of it.
Is that getting to be a little much? Too bad. You need to keep my cock in mind at all times.
Anyway, can you imagine what a hair cocoon would be like? Probably smell fucking bad. Really terrible. I mean, of course your hair smells amazing.
But the point is, I can’t wait to see you again. I can’t wait to wrap my arms around you, taste your lips, grab that perfect ass and tits and ravage you. I want to fuck you so rough you can’t walk for a week. I want to tongue your wet little tight pussy for hours, make you ride my face like a slut, make you moan and come. I want to treat your body like my own personal fuck toy. I want to make you come so hard you forget your own fucking name.
I can’t help myself. These emails always turn dirty. You’re just lodged so far in my skull, and I’m always so god damn hard for you.
Okay, anyway, I have a surprise for you. I’m not saying what it is, but I promise it’s good. I think you’ll like it at least. And don’t call me after reading this and try guessing for, like, an hour. I’m not going to tell you. But be excited.
I think I hear Tracey calling me. The torturer beckons. She can wait another minute though.
Oh, I meant to tell you. I heard from Jess yesterday. Seems she’s doing good, started a new movie with my money. I told her to list me as a producer, she told me to fuck myself. I guess she hasn’t changed.
I didn’t ask her about the documentary. I mean, we both know it’s done, it’s finished. I wanted to ask what happens in it, what we look like, all that shit. But I guess we’ll find out at the premier. That’s when I’m giving you the surprise, by the way. Or really I’m showing it to you.
No more hints though.
Gotta go. Tracey is getting annoyed. I’m seeing you soon, so fucking soon, at this premier. And then who knows?
Love,
Lincoln
I finished reading his most recent email and shut the lid of my laptop, excitement jolting through my body.
Lincoln. I hadn’t seen him or touched him or smelled him in what felt like forever. Really, it had only been a few months. I hadn’t been able to get back home because I was insanely busy with my new lab job, but we kept in constant touch.
Things were good. As good as they could be, at least, considering our relationship consisted of emails and texts and calls and Skype.
I hadn’t really spoken to my dad after everything that went down. We weren’t on bad terms, exactly, but things were weird. It was hard to see him as the same guy I knew after everything that had happened. I didn’t hate him though. He was human and humans messed up all the time.
Some messed up worse than others though.
I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror one last time. I had been reading Lincoln’s old emails to help calm my nerves, but I was ready to get going. The pale blue of my dress made my eyes look great, and Jules said it really flattered my figure. She had picked it out.
Lincoln was already gone when I got back from school. It was a little weird, being in that house, since technically it wasn’t mine anymore. But Jules said it would always be my home, and plus, it had all my stuff in it still.