3:23 AM
HIS STORY In the veil of predawn darkness, the world still sleeping, I awaken with a start. Glancing around in the dim light, my gaze lands on the digital clock on the bedside table. It’s an unholy hour – 3:23 in the morning. My body rebels at the early awakening, yet it’s difficult to deny the stirring below, the strong, demanding pulse that refuses to be ignored. That familiar hardness, a remnant of our encounter just a few hours ago, seems to echo the lingering sweetness of your touch, our bodies tangled together in passion. It’s as if the taste of you has become a part of me, a lingering promise of the pleasure we shared. The memory of that night is already a tantalizing echo in my mind, playing in an endless loop and …