I could hear her sobbing softly, but I didn’t stop until she went limp in my arms. I laid her gently out on the bed and lay down beside her still f...rm.She rested quietly for a while. She wasn’t unconscious because her hand drew little designs in my chest hair. “Thank you, Chris, uh, Mr. Mattson. Thank you.”“You’re welcome, but is that all you want?”“There’s more?”“If you want, yes. But it’s OK to stop now. I’m fine. Only if you want.”Her hand seized the hairs on my chest and pulled a. She asked if I was really a romantic or if that was just the stories.At that point in my life, I had met two women through writing. But I was still skeptical of the majority of people online. Too many people were posing as women and using obviously stolen pictures from porn sites. It didn’t take a reverse image search to figure that out.But Ivy was different. She was drawn to the romantic aspects of my stories more than the sex. She was flirtatious but in an affectionate way. Unlike the. More

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