We would repeat these late night meetings. It was good. We would lay with each other and laugh about work and mutual acquaintances. Things were nice with him. They weren't great. They were far from bad. Nothing was overly emotional, or even emotional at all. We just were. The sex was good. It was calm.
Then, one day it just stopped. We still talk on the phone occasionally. There were no hard feelings. Nothing happened. We can still go on being friends and maybe one day we will even find ourselves as bedmates again. I wouldn't mind either option. He's there. And I will always contact him when I come back to town. We were friends. We had sex. Nothing went wrong. We are still friends.
This is a short post for good reason. It wasn't exciting. It was exactly what it was. It was just something that happened. And, I am glad that it did.