The Power of Thought

I found a room that night in a town about an hour away. For hours, I paced the small room as my heart and soul struggled to understand what happened tonight, even as my body and soul still tried in vain to recover from the taste of Maggie's mouth. What was happening to me? Why was I feeling all this? This was Maggie, not Madeline. I knew this. Simple logic told me this, yet something deep inside me wanted to argue.

That mouth, those lips, and that tongue. Could it possibly be that, like everything else about them, even something far more complex than a smile or the sound of their voices, kissing them could feel and taste exactly the same too? For a moment there, I'd been transported back to those heavenly days on the lake as I spent glorious hours devouring my beautiful Madeline's mouth. I knew that mouth better than anything. I'd memorized every angle and crevice. As much as every lap and swirl of our tongues felt exactly and as perfectly in rhythm as my kisses with Madeline, I knew