0 comments/ 8420 views/ 0 favorites Letter to You By: blackvelvetgirl The first night I met you I wanted you. I've always said I fall in lust with an individual's mannerisms, their demeanour... I could tell you were depraved and the sight of you made me tingle. Surrounded by people in PVC and fetish wear it's a wonder you noticed me at all, I'm not one to usually stand out. I was the youngest there, maybe that was it? I made frequent trips to the bar for everyone, hoping to get your attention by showing what a good girl I was. Pathetic me offering to get everyone drinks and realising I'd forgotten what they wanted when I caught sight of you. I hate making mistakes. I stood there fumbling with cocktail orders and dropping a pack of matches, and then there was a flame next to my face as I let you light my cigarette. "You shouldn't smoke those, they're bad for you" was all you said. I thanked you and accepted your invitation back to your table, forgetting the drinks. It didn't occur to me until later that week when I was lying next to you that it was odd you should have a cigarette lighter when you don't smoke. It's unfair you never even asked me what sexuality I was, considering we met as a lesbian club. I suppose it didn't matter because I'd do anything for you, still it would have been nice to be able to tell myself you cared. The day I left you said "You're a stupid girl" and I told you I'd known that from the day I fell in love with you. When you first touched me it was in the shower. We'd been eating dinner and you decided you wanted to surprise *Him*. Do you remember what you said? You asked me if I wanted to put on a show for Master, but you knew already that I wouldn't say no. I was conscious of my body but you didn't even look at it as you took off my skirt and top, then underwear and bra. "Get in" was your comment as you went to get a razor and the tone of your voice made me want to climb into your bed and touch myself, but I stepped into the hot water you'd turned on. It was too hot and I added some cold whilst waiting, staring at my reflection in the mirror; Long black hair, green eyes with too much mascara, a curvy body that I hated, and the scars on my thighs and arms. You came back and got in the shower with me. "Why is it cold? Did you touch the tap?" I nodded and you pushed me up against the wall and twisted a hand around my hair pulling my head back. "Did I say you could touch the tap girl?" I shook my head and looked down at your breasts, the nipples had tiny droplets of water dripping from them. I never thought I'd be one to like pain, I'd always loved the idea, but when it came to it anything more than slight discomfort made me feel sick. It must have been the self-inducted scars on me that made you assume I was a masochist, either way I've never told you just how scared I was when I saw that cane. My body felt strange, it took a few seconds to realise I was aroused and I breathed in shakily. With my arms bent behind my back, and your nails digging into my wrist I didn't try to move, I wanted to feel you, even if it was a long thin piece of wood you would hold, I wanted that connection. Knowing myself as I do now, (allot of it being what you taught me about myself) I now know that the first stroke and the last are always the best for me, They hurt the most and my skin feels like its on fire, but if I don't try to block out the pain, and allow it to flow through me, it feels like a cool shiver, electric and more arousing than anything else. I can't remember when you stopped but your hands were so cool on me, and made my flesh feel calm. You let my curl up on the bed with you; fully clothed, and rest my naked body against you. If I'd known then that you liked to see me cry I would have sobbed openly... Your fingers to this day have yet to be competed with. Sometimes in the office when you'd take me into the boardroom because we thought it sounded like fun. It was more the idea that got to you, your husbands board room, and young girl on the table ready to do whatever you wished. But for me it was those fingers, your hands, pulling, tearing at my clothes, my hair. Then, inside me, feeling if I was wet, asking me whose dirty little slut I was, who I belonged to. And those two fingers, then three, pushing so deep into me, against the riveted flesh inside. You played nurse and patient with me, and injected me with something that turned me to putty in your hands. But you never needed to, I would have done anything for you, with just one look you could make or break my day. Every time you tested me I didn't let you down did I? I stayed in lose bondage for over 9 hours knowing I could have moved my arms that were so painfully fallen asleep, but I didn't- I stayed still and felt myself somewhere else, and woke up to the sound of your voice. I lost myself so many times to you, through pleasures of the body, pain of the body. Sweaty hair and hot red marks later the only indication of what had happened. You knew how to get to me, still do. Sometimes on the phone when you use that tone I feel like I'm at your feet again, bound and without a choice. This time I have the choice and I never let myself give in again, I can't see you. Can't go back there. Not with him the one you love more. And it's the choice I hate most of all. Letter to You I want you. I want you badly; I can sit here and I can envision fantasies of you all day long, but I don't believe even those give the full degree of my want. It's like an obsession; it's my only obsession; I'm not an obsessive type person. I actually realized the full extent of my want for you this weekend. I've known, of course, for sometime that I wanted to fuck you, but the obsession part, or what I feel is an obsession, really struck me this weekend. You are really the only person that I speak to, that I never get bored of. I don't know if you knew that, but I guess you do now. Usually, when speaking with people, I tend to become uninterested very easily, and I just stop talking to them. But not you, you've always peaked my interest, kept me well entertained, and a lot of people can't do that. You're probably wondering now what caused this line of thought, or even this confession from me. You've known me long enough to guess or know that I'm also not the type of person that is easily drawn to confessing things, especially my deeper thoughts or feelings. I keep to myself, and I like it that way. I don't like having to explain myself to others, maybe because it gives me a sense of being mysterious. People can wonder, "what's up with her?" And never really be able to answer it, because I never give enough information for them to. I've decided though, that to you I'm going to confess. I think you need to know, and at this very moment I'm willing to lay it out there. I'm doing it this way, in letter form, because if I were to speak to you, I wouldn't say it. I realized my want, my obsession, as I like to call it, when I was around a group of people. I saw the men looking at me; I knew what they wanted; I'm very good at reading people, and though, I would have been more than willing to give them it, my thoughts included only you. I, as any other hot-blooded woman would have done, didn't begin to fantasize about these other men. I never once thought to give them a show, or let them know the feelings, that need to fuck and do it in the most raunchiness of fashions, were there. My thoughts were solely on you. My fantasies focused only on you touching me, on you fucking me, in those most nastiness of fashions, of me being solely yours and pleasing only you. As I felt these mens' eyes on me; as I heard them speak and laugh, and try hard to get my attention on them, I drove myself deeper into my own thoughts. I forgot they were there, and began to dream. I saw you naked before me, and as my dream self looked down, I saw that I was naked as well and laying on a bed, and I smiled as I looked back up at you. And I spoke, in an almost taunting fashion to you as I moved my hands up the sides of my body and over my full breasts. "I'm ready and willing for you to take me." You came to me, laying down so that our naked hot flesh touched, and a moan escaped my lips. I felt your hands gingerly move up my tight thighs to find my warm, moistness. And as your fingers parted those lower lips and found the hard nub that brings to me such great pleasures, you bent your head down and kissed me. I moaned again, into your mouth, as our tongues began their sacred dance and the ceremonies began. My hands found what I've wanted for so long and I began to stroke your manhood, running my fingers up and down that long, thick, hard shaft as I became more breathless and my body began to quiver. When the kiss broke, my big blue eyes opened even wider as I looked you straight in the eye. "I need you. I need you now. I want you to break me. I want you to make me yours." Your fingers dipped down into my tight, wet hole, causing my words to be lost, causing all my concentration to wither away, and causing me to moan once more. You looked down at me and smiled as my passions grew. Your lips found mine once again before you spoke. "If you want me. You know exactly what to do." You removed your hands from me, and I sat up, looking over to you as I moved down. I grabbed what I wanted, what I needed to satisfy every fiber of my being, and began to lick it. I moaned loudly as I tasted you, and became even louder as I placed you in my mouth. I heard you sigh which only caused me to work better. Moving my full lips around you, making my tongue lap at the firm skin, stroking that beautiful thing, caused my body to begin to ache for you even more. The moistness turned into a flow of juices that ran down my legs as I became more heated. I couldn't hold myself back and dropped my head, I needed all of you. I wanted badly to feel you slip into my throat, and I did just that, taking all of you, but with complications. It didn't matter to me anyway, I knew you'd love the feel of my throat constricting so tightly against you. I kept it secured until you pulled me back up, and off of you. I looked up and in a lust-filled husky voice I asked, "will you fuck me now? May I have it? I need it badly. My body burns for you." You smile as you see and hear how much I want you and you run your hand down my jaw line. "Yes, my baby, you may have it now." I quickly climb on top of you and drop down. I revel in the feel of you filling me, but before I can begin to move you grab my hips and stare into my eyes. "You know I'm going to fuck you, right?" "Of course I do. That's what I want." "This tenderness is done." "I don't want it to be tender." "I know. Girls like you liked to be fucked, don't they? The could care less about anything else." "That's right. Everything else is boring, and can be left up to good girls who don't actually know how to fuck." "Good, I'm glad we agree. Now get to it, and fuck me just as good as a dirty little girl like you can." "With pleasure, my dear Sir." I began to grind on you, hard, moaning loudly as I grabbed my breasts in my hands and began to manipulate their erect nipples. I cried out as I felt you deep inside of me. My heat rising, I took my hands from my breasts and dropped them to your sides as I pressed myself against you and began to bounce, driving you ever deeper and faster into me. I felt my body began to spasm, but before anything could come of it, you threw me off of you and came between my legs. You grabbed my ankles and threw my legs onto your shoulders as you thrust back into my hot wetness, causing a loud ecstasy-filled scream to come from me as you pounded all of your length and weight into me. My body sang with its desire, my muscles clamped so tightly around you that you could not hold back, and you began to fill me with everything I've always wanted. The fantasy faded, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself surrounded by these men that had tried in vain to get my attention earlier. I saw that all of them had stripped and all of them were pulling hard and quick on themselves. I realized why as I felt myself shake and saw my hand rubbing myself hard and fast. I will also confess, that I ended up pleasing everyone of them. That shouldn't come as a surprise to you, you've always known the type of girl I am. I can't sit around with a bunch of men jacking off to me and not do something about it. I let them have me, laying down and taking them into my mouth and my womanhood, but still thinking only of you. When I felt myself being bathed in all of their aftermath, I thought of you spewing that hot thick cream all over my skin. Even after they left, and as I cleaned up my want lingered. I felt unsatisfied, though, I probably shouldn't have. I couldn't help it, they were not you, and I'll only be satisfied when I am able to please my obsession Truly Yours.