Saltofthaearth meets the love of her life

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Saltofthaearth meets the love of her life and he’s the most beautiful black man she has ever seen!

Salt has a thing for goatees and square jawlines. It was a turn on when she got to see his face for the first time. As he talked her gaze broke from his eyes and moved effortlessly across his flawless chocolate complexion. Straining to find a line, or a wrinkle. Not one blemish! This man is fuccin beautiful she thinks to herself, and as her eyes met the squarest parts of his jawline, she imagined them pressing into her right and left inner thighs as she straddled her naked pussy over his face.

Pay attention Salt! She thought when she realized that he was awaiting a response to a question. A question that she didn’t hear over the perverted thoughts of his lips moving together on her pussy with the rhythm of her pelvis…She was infatuated with him. She consumed every detail he fed her about himself, and each interaction fed an insatiable appetite.

One day, while studying in her university library she received a message from him. He proposed marriage and as her eyes examined each word repeatedly (because she didn’t believe her eyes) her heart beamed with first humility, and then sorrow. In order for her to grant his request she would have to become a bigamist! She started to input a response but hesitated. Later for that, I got to take this exam! It’s too good to be true she said to herself.
It had been about a month maybe three weeks since his first direct message on the gram. The stranger and Salt had been going at it pretty steady messaging back and forth by then. Feverishly typing paragraphs, two to three at a time, spelling out the way they were feeling each other. Her descriptions detailed his overwhelming presence inside her psyche. His accounts laid out his welcome reception of her offering up her inner most feelings. He had discovered a genuine spirit in Salt and poured his energies into reaching the point of uncharted territory. Hers was the joy of a remarkable find in this new, young and seemingly unfledged man more than half her age holding his own with her in a battle of wits. A healthy contestant in her favorite kind of romance a dance with words

Salt couldn’t say that jailhouse romance was new to her because that would be untrue. Never before had she found herself so caught up in a man that she lost her footing. It was only when he misunderstood something she innocently said, and his reply being a bit harsh that she noticed her hearts condition. She had fallen in love with the notion of them as a couple. Her mind flooded with the ideas that he had spoken to her. Her heart ached with a need to nurture and care for him. Her body craved his touch. She kept her most intimate thoughts to herself, because it was all so new and premature it seemed.
Early one Saturday morning, she woke up with him on her mind. This had become her new normal. She pondered about that expression of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. It was normal to have thoughts and feelings towards a man and keep them to herself.

Today she decided to share her thoughts with him:
“I sent you this because I have developed an appetite for you. In realizing this I wondered how could it be? Could it be because I am inundated with your presence (although you are not physically here) by your texting me, contacting me daily and in between your reaching out, in the quiet moments of my day when I look at your pictures and re read our conversations? Yes, this must be how it developed and now what do I do with this? I ask myself how much do I want you to know? Remember me saying telling you how I feel is giving you a roadmap to my heart. I feel I’m taking it a step further and I’ve got your hand in mine and I am leading you there. The entire time I’ve been looking at the time and counting the days. It hasn’t been a month since we met logic reminds me, but my heart argues connection doesn’t respect time. If something comes together easily and fits just right it takes no time at all. Logic argues the place that you’re in is full of the types of people who don’t respect love or life. I wrestle with my logical mind because I feel in my spirit that you are different from the norm. Like me. But I’m reminded that I have been fooled before but I was fooled because of my spiritual condition at the time and I saw the truth. I simply ignored it. With you I notice a few small things that I am curious about (like you) so I’m reserving judgment of those until the time presents and they may just become insignificant. Well I’ve done enough procrastinating time to get to studying. Ttyl love 💜😘

This was nearly a year ago! Going through old letters and re reading them she rediscovered again and again an unhealthy but alluring appetite for him. Charming muthafucka he was, and looking like he did and offering himself to her, it was all she could do to try and stop entertaining the idea. She didn’t allow thoughts of them intimately alone and very close to run away with her for too long. It hurt the let emotion rule her flesh, or was it her flesh ruling her emotion? Exactly that, and that was seriously inappropriate behavior! With every inappropriate thought that she entertained about his body, The way he was young and full of life. His wonderfully sculpted muscle fibers in each body part. He was Adonis in every way possible. Alive and doing very well. With every sexual deviant thought she rewarded herself with negative but important points. He’s half your age you’re an old bitch. You’re not all that and a bag of chips, He’s attracted to your naivety to believe that he would even blink your way as a free man. You know better, she says. Recognize it for what it is. Everybody who is on the outside, and entertains him is a route to the rest of the world. Salt being an older more mature woman thus making her more reliable, was indeed a positive in his life. She believed his romantic fantasy of loving each other and fuccing on the regular once he was free was what he really wanted to do. This was because of the convenience of it, and not because she was just so beautiful and sexy to him. She knew how she could be sexy for him, and she could believe his responses to her advances and receive those nerve impulses right into her sacred space and she could then perform on herself the very things she craved for him to do to her. She skimmed through pics of him on her phone. She played around with different filters adding color and blurring backgrounds to bring his flawless face forward in the images. One photo in particular of him standing bare chested in DOC prison pants. His hair was wild about his head with a prominent part down the middle that suggested that he had just removed French braids out of his hair. This was her favorite picture of him. He didn’t look like the baby that he was. It was a grown assed man standing there. Fine as fucc too! Not a flaw to discover anywhere on his youthful muscular temple. Looking at the picture inhaling the energy of her basic primal urges she fantasized all the ways she could please him. It very quickly became an obsession. She collected enough images of him to create a scrapbook. Without an idea of a future with him personally, this way she knew that he could remove himself from her life but he couldn’t take her scrapbook.

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