I want to give you a slice of lemon.

In this imagined world, we've never met. You've never seen my face. You've never heard my voice. You've never felt my fingers on your skin. <br><br>All you know of me is the way I breathe, and the fact that my tongue is pierced. When you turn your head, you'll find me on the opposite side of a wrought iron fence, the chain links covered in ivy, the fence bent in some places. It's all too tall for you to climb over anyway. I have a slice of lemon in my hand, and a .45 at my hip. You can smell the lemon. I can smell the lemon too. You can also smell the gunpowder on my skin. You can also smell the musk on my skin. We've been talking all night, in hushed tones. <br><br>I imagine, in our world, we've both been standing by this fence for years. Maybe it's all our life. Maybe we've never been apart. We've never run out of things to say. We've never been bored. I imagine, in our world, this is all we know of the universe. I imagine, in our world, if we ever see each other's face, the world will end. <br><br>You laugh at something I say. I chuckle, and suck on the chain in my mouth. A moment later, I spit it out, as loud as I can. You chuckle too, and ask me if I ever run out of them. I say, "I'll never run out of them, as long as I have you." <br><br>You laugh again, and you say, "I didn't know you'd bring up that topic again." I say, "I've been thinking about it for two years." You say, "You've been thinking about that topic for two years?" I say, "Yes." You say, "What about it?" I say, "I'm bringing you a gift." You say, "Is that why you're being so quiet?" I say, "Yes." You say, "I haven't even thanked you yet." You pause. You say, "Thank you." <br><br>I pause too. You wait a while for me to say anything back. I don't. I get nervous. I shake my head, and rub my ear. I'm trembling a little bit. I'm holding the lemon in my left hand. With my right hand, I undo my pants. I pull out my cock. I grab it, and I squeeze it. You're watching from the other side of the fence. I don't look at you, but I can see your gaze on me. I start to stroke my cock, in front of you. I don't look at you. I moan. I close my eyes and moan. I shake my head again. <br><br>I grab your fence with one hand, and make a fist. I start to pump harder. I start to cry. You step closer. I shake my head again. I pump harder. I throw my head back, and I cry out, and I come. <br><br>You're quiet for a long time. After a while, I stand up. I stand in silence for a minute, cleaning myself up. Then, I get down on my knees, and I start to crawl through the fence. I push my head through a gap in the bars, and I reach my right hand through. You take my hand. I unroll my left sleeve. You take that hand too. I look at you for the first time. <br><br>You have a beautiful face. I feel my eyes water up. I feel my knees tremble. I feel my dick get hard again. I say, "I'm sorry." You ask, "What for?" I say, "I didn't know if we could meet. I didn't know if I could keep meeting you. But I did. I'm sorry." <br><br>You pull my hand. You pull me through. I get stuck in the gap. You pull harder. You tug on me. I hit the ground. I hit it hard. You pull my hair back. You take my hand. You take my fingers, and you shove them inside you. <br><br>I scream. I scream at the top of my lungs. I scream, and I cry. I push my fingers deep inside you. You scream too. I cry out. <br><br>And then, I remember the lemon. I remember my plan. I pull my fingers out of you. You grab my wrists. I pull my wrists out of you. I pull my hands out of you. I pull my hands back, and I slap you with them. <br><br>You've never felt my fingers on your skin before. You've never felt my touch. I slap you, with all my strength. I slap you, as hard as I can. I slap you, until you run away screaming. <br><br>I lay in the dirt, holding the lemon. I cry, and I cry, and I cry. I cry out. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. <br><br>I lay in the dirt, holding the lemon, until I'm nothing but a skeleton.