That's all it was supposed to be. Her. Him. Pleasure. And then a fast goodbye. He's a stranger. And yet, He's not. I know he'll feel like pleasure and passion, even before he touches me. I know he'll demand more than I want to give, and yet, because I dare to give myself to him, the result will be deliciously hot. I know that I will not leave his bed without being utterly, completely sated. And I know that I will leave the next morning anyway. And so, I do. And so, he follows.