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I kinda can't bring myself to describe in much detail the fantastic experience I had with the Tight-Bodied Little Bottom yesterday, since pretty much a couple hours later my mother had a horrible relapse into an earlier condition I thought we were long past. It's just amazing how life does this... for about two hours he and I had some pretty mind-bendingly connected sex bathed in a golden afternoon light, fully in the moment, absolutely beautiful movements and sensations. (He texted me later saying "You're incredible" and "You're one of the best sex partners I have ever had"; I will say we are unusually well-paired, for sure.) After my huge pulsing orgasm inside him, watching his eyes dilate as he felt me inseminating him, and then his raining all over me in splatters (he stood up over me to get off, for some reason, and beat himself like crazy till he came and came and came while I flinched like it was lava hitting me-- I really kinda avoid other guys' cum), we lay together and talked for a long time. I could barely leave because we kept wrapping ourselves around each other and making out and saying goodbye and then talking some more and making out some more and saying goodbye some more. And then I came home to a mounting disaster that I feel less and less equipped to handle emotionally after all this time. I can remember the pleasure of yesterday afternoon but not call it up to the present the way I like to when I write these things. Things feel rather bleak right now and the high of yesterday feels a million miles away. I'm due to take a short trip up to Brooklyn this weekend to visit my lonely partner and spend some time with him. He's terrified that I'm going to cancel because of how things have turned here, but I think I earned a respite and some other family members have to step in. I don't know how I can enjoy my time with him in the place where I really want to be much, knowing what's going on down here. But I hope I can.

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