7 comments/ 16159 views/ 1 favorites Dear John By: Lesly Sloan Dear John, By the time you get this, I'll be on vacation with Clarissa, my new lover. She and I have been having a torrid affair for the past month, while you've been trotting around the world on "business." You've always had extra pussy on the side. I knew that, but I didn't let on, to avoid a big fucking fight. Well, now it's my turn to get some pussy - and I love it! I never told you this before: I think you're a dumb fuck, redeemed only by having a big cock. That kept me going, but you know what? Clarissa has strap-ons which are not only bigger than your prick, but they never go soft. She fucks me better than you, and, as for getting my pussy eaten, all I can say is that it takes a woman to know how to please another woman. She's great at probing the folds of my pussy with her tongue, which gets me hot to start with. After she uses her lips and tongue on my clit, I usually spasm and come onto her face. And listen to this John: she laps up my juices with gusto, which you never did. You really didn't like the way I taste, but she does. Fuck you, John. You don't deserve an explanation, but here it is anyway: I never had the intention to cheat on you, although you'd been cheating on me for years. Most women are saps that way. I let slip at the office one day that my "boyfriend" would be out of town for a month and wondered what was happening around town, to keep myself occupied. That afternoon Clarissa called my office and asked if I was free for a chat. "Sure," I said. "Come on in. I'm bored with the damn paper work for the Western Financial deal and could use a break." She knocked on my door five minutes later. There was something different about her. She had unbuttoned the two top buttons of her blouse, showing a hint of black lace and the swell of her breasts. Clarissa was already advertising her availability, but I was too innocent to realize it at the time. "Too bad you'll be alone for a month," she said. "I know how that feels. My best friend, Joyce, left town a while back for a good job in Colorado. I miss her a lot." "That's tough," I said. "How about getting together after work for a drink?" John, honest, I had no thoughts of getting intimate with her at that point. Well, I'm not sure about that, in retrospect. The hint of black lace and the sight of her boobs may have already turned me on. Also, I knew that she and Joyce had been lovers. That night we met at Jayson's, the bar on the corner of my block. You remember, don't you? We often drank there, before going to my apartment to fuck. That might have been why I picked Jayson's, but I really don't know. All I'm sure of is that we had a great time and got slightly tipsy. Tipsy, not drunk. It seemed natural to ask her to come up to our place, for coffee and Danish. Because I was wobbling, she put her arm around me and held me close, very close. John, I loved the feel of her arm on my body - much more than any time you've held me. It didn't take much of a seduction scene for her to get my blouse and bra off, and to start kissing my breasts. I must have been ready for loving since you weren't available...and she's a damn attractive woman. I put some smooth ballads on the CD player, my head was still spinning from the booze, and then she kissed me on the lips - slowly and passionately. "You're very lovely," she said. "Lean back on the couch and let me take care of you." That's exactly what happened; she took care of me, real good care. She's a fantastic lover. I leaned back and closed my eyes. Then, while kissing me, she unbuttoned my blouse and bra, and removed them. You remember how much I like to have a lover undress me before we fuck, don't you? We didn't fuck or even eat each other's pussies that first night. She ran her tongue all around my nipples until I started to moan, and then she sucked on them. Clarissa is marvelously skilled with her tongue and lips. Much better than you ever were, if you don't mind my mentioning that. I responded to her intensely, breathing hard and then coming in an uncontrollable burst. I'd never lost control that way with any other lovers, male or female. You knew that I'd fucked other guys before you, but you didn't know about the women I'd been involved with, did you? Hey, John, I pretended I didn't know about the guys whose cocks you'd sucked. No big deal, you being a cocksucker; it's at least something we have in common. By the way, I hope you found some fun guys on your latest trip. I want to finish this letter before I go to Clarissa's pad. So, I'll just add something about you that Clarissa and I have decided. Rather than ditching you for being such a useless prick, which was my first thought, we'll give you an opportunity to serve us. And I do mean "serve." We'll make you our sissy slut, to be used as we wish. You will do exactly as we say, while dressed in a maid's outfit. I think you'll look adorable in a maid's costume, with your lips and face made up, like the slut that you are. You will eat pussy, as demanded by us, on your knees, prick. We'll flog you, to enforce discipline, whenever you act up. I can picture your ass covered with red welts. Can *you* picture that, John? Probably the most enjoyable duty of yours will be to bend over, and be fucked in the ass by one of us, while eating the other's pussy. Think about that; focus on how you'll feel, being our sissy. Sweet dreams! Julia Dear John Dear John: What to say to you now? We came so close to everything and now we seem to have nothing. You only work an office away, and I see you walk by to go for coffee or when you have to use the color printer down the hall, but you look at me so differently. A month ago, when you would have walked by there would have been a secret smile that would have warmed my heart. I would know the other girls would be watching you but you would have that smile for me, and it made me feel so sexy and alluring. Now, you walk by and see me looking at you and you shake your head, looking at your feet, as though under your breath you are questioning what you ever saw in me. Can that possibly be true? I know you like my body and I am in even better shape than I was before we happened. I thought men were so focused on that. How can I have turned you on so much only six weeks ago and now you don't want me at all? It's enough to send a girl back off her diet and exercise program. I am trying to be respectful of your decision. But it is so hard. The girls in the office know how I feel about you, at least on a surface level. They have heard me talk about your strong arms and shoulders, seen me sneak looks at your buns when you have taken off your suit jacket. Since you thrust me away, they have seen me trying to hide my face when I felt the tears were going to come. They have heard my sighs, noticed my lack of jokes, and it is impossible for me to keep everything from them. So I have told them that you don't seem to want to talk to me anymore, and that we will not be doing lunches, or taking our 3 p.m. daily trip to Starbucks. They don't know how rarely we made it to the coffee shop. Perhaps I have made an inappropriate joke with a client or two, or perhaps one of the girls that work in your office has told you how I asked if you seemed mad at me. But you have cut me off from honest information about yourself, so what's a girl to do if not ask her girlfriends? I think you even expect it. You said as much when I got mad at Jill for telling you how I was feeling on the day you took me to have our little talk. I hate that restaurant now, by the way. I am so glad we didn't go someplace with happier memories. I don't know how to feel about you now John. I still want you. I want to come upon you in a back hallway, push you into a supply closet, go down on my knees and pull your zipper down and thrust your cock into my mouth. No man refuses a blow job, right? Would you look down at me the way you have before? Would your eyes light with that hungry fire as I lick the underside of your prick and circle my tongue around the head? I want to hear the jingle of your belt as you unbuckle it, move the fine wool of your pants down over your hips to fall in a black puddle as my hands grip the cheeks of your bubble butt and I take your hardening cock in deep. I want to feel it push against the back of my throat and I want to hear your gasp of pleasure as I let it slide into my throat. I want to make the noises to let you know how yummy it is to me, the ones I first made that night in your truck as you drove along and tried to concentrate. The ones that made you pull over to the side of the road. I want to take my hand and place it below my mouth on your shaft, starting long and slow and bobbing more quickly. I want to feel you get harder when I look up and make eye contact with you. I want you to watch me jerk your cock into my mouth until I feel it start to pulse and then I'll stick out my tongue and open wide while you watch. When the first drops of your cum start I'll thrust you back inside me to catch it all so there is no mess. When your hips stop fucking my mouth and you begin to breath more normally, I will let you slide out and then look up. I'll stick my tongue out to show you the cum and then I will noisily swallow it. I love the way you taste just as much now as I did the first time I ever tasted you. I'll lick my fingers to get every drop. Wouldn't you like that? Don't you still want me that way? After how you told me I was so good at it, after you said my name between gasping breaths? Oh, John! How can you do this? You can't possibly have changed the way you feel so quickly in a vacuum. Is this about her? Did your wife figure something out? Or is it even worse? Is there a replacement for me in your life? Not your wife, but another "other woman"? Tell me what to do, and I will do it. I will be your servant, at your disposal. Use me in any way you want and I will agree to it, just don't push me out of your life. I will accept the smallest of roles, the most insignificant of parts. Just kiss me every once in a while and stop hiding from me the gift of your smile. Slap or pinch my ass if we are walking alone, slide your hand under my skirt in the empty elevator. Leave me giggling like a schoolgirl as you walk to your car in the parking garage without a backwards glance, off to fuck your wife and pretend that she is me. I'll do anything to keep my little piece of you. You claim to be so selfish. Prove it. Keep me while you can. You know I won't tell her, won't ever have the guts to make that call. Besides, her first call would me to my husband anyway. I can't ruin you without ruining me too. So keep me. I'll be happy to give you a hand job at lunch, to flash you my tits in the break room. I will be your outlet for your desires, the one you use to keep yourself in check. I don't mind. I want whatever part of you I can have. You don't have to buy me flowers or jewels. I know that your wife comes first always. I accept that. Just don't do this. I can't have you hate me, John. I just can't. Love, Belle Dear John Dear John, Oh my, that is not a good start for this letter. My dearest, this is not a "Dear John" type of letter but more of an affirmation of my love. With that being said, I do admit to the accusations of your note left for me. Yes, I am having an affair, and yet as it is shallow, tawdry, and purely physical; I feel it is unfair for you to claim I no longer love you. My connections with this person are mainly tactile and non-verbal with lots of heavy breathing while in the dark. What this man does for me is something I could never get from your rather small semi-turgid man hood. Yet as much as I soar from the complete surrender to animalistic urges I also enjoy the sweet release and relaxing orgasms I receive from your tongue glued to my sex. As I write this, I think of you between my legs with your face buried deep in my folds while I hold you head to my secret spot enjoying you for hours. Just thinking of this makes my panties wet with anticipation. Clearly, you can see my quandary for as much as I have to have him I want you too. You both have become my yin and yang as he scratches the itch you create. Whereas you fulfill my needs, he fulfills my desires. Can't you see that I want both of you? John I am begging you not to make me choose between the two of you. In all honesty, if I am forced to make a decision, surely you are intelligent enough to know whom I will select. My dearest husband I do not wish to make that choice, no what I want is for you to swallow at least some of your pride and come back to our home. As you ruminate on this, as I know you will, think not only of your humiliation but also of the pleasures of your loving wife. When you picture your wife being taken like the bitch in heat that she is, try not to think of the pain in your heart. Concentrate lower, to the stirrings in your groin as you would being a voyeur with some unknown wanton woman. Husband of mine here is where you need to be honest with yourself as well as me. John I have been on your computer, I've seen your secret files and hidden websites so I know your repressed urges. I guess the main question to resolve is weather you can accept your fantasies as a reality. Yes, John you are now a cuckold and that is a fact you cannot change. If you can accept this, I feel we will only strengthen our marriage. Do you think I have forgotten all of the erotic evenings we spent of you begging me to tell you of my past lovers? Do I need to remind you of your incessant prattle, was he better, was he bigger or did he last longer? Although I lied at the time to save your precious ego, the real answers were yes, yes and yes. As I have told you already, I will not give up the man in my life for the husband in my life. However, I am ready to include you vicariously in all of my dalliances. To tell you of my tawdry machinations as your face takes its rightful place between my legs would give untold pleasure to both you and me, thus giving satisfaction to both our needs. What I am trying to tell you John this is something you secretly want and if you can't get past your foolish pride then you are the one who will suffer from the missed eroticism that we both can share in. I know you still love me and I want you to know my love for you is as real as the tears that stain these pages. We are a couple, and what I do to satisfy my need for a real man should not cause you any more concern than your need for companionship with those silly men you play golf with so often does to me. What more can I say other than I want you back in our home? As this decision is yours to make I will abide in whatever way you make it. I say this with my heart today but the longer you delay the bigger the chance I may change my mind. I only ask you to listen to your loins and not your pride and come back to me as my loving cuckold and to the sexual adventures ahead of us. Love, Jane PS. If you come back and there is a gray BMW in the driveway, go see a movie or something then come back when its gone. J. Dear John Derr I am John Derr and I am back in Iraq. This time it is because I want to be here. I have always heard the phrase "to hell and back". Well I have been to hell and back and then back to hell again. I am working for a lot more money than the last time I was here. But let me go back and tell you the story from the start. When I graduated from high school and thought I was going to college I got a rude awakening. My older (2 Years) brother was already in college and my fathers company was downsizing. My father didn't lose his job but he had to take a different job at less pay. So when it came time for me to go to college the funds were not there. I thought okay I will work a couple of years and save up and then I can go to college and work until I get my degree. Yeah, sure thing. I decided to join the army guard and help out my cause with a weekend a month and two weeks a year. I joined and spent my six months in boot camp and training. I came home and found a job and started to build my college fund. I lived at home, which saved me some. I paid my folks rent and board, even had a little money I could party with ever once in a while. I did not plan on meeting anyone that would make me change my plans. I was at a party one night walking around with a bottle of beer in my hand when I saw this vision. I thought I had died and this beautiful young angel in a blue dress the same color as her eyes was there to escort me to see Saint Peter. I dropped my beer and stood there with my brain going ten different directions. I thought I was on a roller coaster, tilt-a-whirl combination and it was running twice the speed of sound or sight or something like that. She saw me and started giggling and walked over and picked up what was left of my beer and gave it back to me and said, " I think you may have had enough for tonight." When I stopped stuttering and spitting and trying to calm myself down I finally said, "My God, woman, you are the prettiest thing I have ever seen. Do you mind if I just stare at you for a while?" She laughed and said, "Lets walk over to the couch and sit down and I will bring you another beer and we can talk. That is when you catch your breath and calm down and no, I don't mind if you stare as long as you don't start drooling." She laughed as she walked away. By the time she returned I was calm enough to hold a conversation without making a bigger fool of myself. We talked for about an hour before I found the nerve to ask her to dance. We danced a fast one and then when a slow song came on she pulled me into her body and whispered in my ear, "Can you feel them? They are real and it feels good to have them pressed next to your body." While I started to sweat, I said, "Woman, I thought you was an angel but I am beginning to think you may be a devil. This is torture but please don't stop." We danced until the party started to break up. I asked if I could drive her home to which she replied, "I have my own car but I will give you my phone number and you can call me tomorrow night after six o'clock." We kissed goodnight and her lips tasted like strawberry vanilla chocolate peach and I said, "Wow, I could get used to that." She laughed and "Tomorrow night after six." I don't remember going home but I got there safe and went to sleep dreaming of the angel that had come into my life. I had dreams of swimming in a river of strawberry vanilla chocolate peach syrup. When I woke up I was covered in syrup but it wasn't what I had dreamed of. The day drug out into what seemed like a week. We started dating and since I was living at home still, our lovemaking was confined to the back seat of my car or sometimes when her landlord was out of town we could go to her apartment. The lovemaking was hot and we tried about everything we had heard of and then some. We were in love. We had talked about me going to college and what I had to do to accomplish that. She volunteered that she would work and I could go to school and work a part time job and we would make it. We could get married and live in college housing and she would stay on the pill so we didn't have any surprises. So we set the date for the wedding and started to plan our future. Then Uncle Sam threw a monkey wrench in those plans when my guard unit was called up to go to Iraq. I got a taste of heaven and now I was going to hell. Of course the wedding plans were put on hold and she promised she would wait for me. We wrote every day for about three months. Sometimes I would get three or four letters at a time. We both were still making plans and looking forward to the day I returned home. Then about six months into my deployment the letters dropped off to every other day and then to two a week and my brothers' name started to appear in just about every letter. It was about something he had done or said and she wanted to tell me about it. There was not anyway I could say anything without hunting someone's feelings so I didn't even mention it in my letters, which had dropped off to match hers. I had three months until we were to be rotated back to the states when I got the following letter. Dear John Derr, This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I won't draw it out into a long pitiful letter. I must tell you that Frank and I have fallen in love and we are getting married the first Saturday of next month. I am sorry. I did not expect anything like this to happen. We started to hang around with each other when he would come home from college and before we knew it we were making out. This is hard to tell you also. We were using your car because he had put his in the shop for repairs. That is not right. Yours has a bigger back seat. I told you I would not drag this out. I hope you can forgive us and wish us the best. We love you, Frank and Annie Let me tell you I went from being stationed in hell to being in hell in hell if you know what I mean. I was glad I was only issued a sidearm and didn't have to wear that except when we moved from one position to another. I wanted to shoot something or somebody. I had been sending most of my paycheck home to be put in a joint checking account with Annie. It didn't take long for me to stop that. The thought of my money going to her to take my car and use it to screw my brother didn't help my disposition. I finally talked myself into putting all this aside and getting on with my life. I said that but I wasn't sure I meant it. I would be able to put it aside after I kicked Franks' ass. Maybe. The three months went by fast and it was time for my unit to return home. I knew this meant a week or two in Fort Stewart and then a chartered bus ride home where all the families and friends would be waiting. I didn't want to be a part of that. Frank and Annie would be there along with my momma and daddy, and some uncles and aunts. Nope, I didn't want take on Frank on government property. That would land me in a military prison somewhere. Two days before the unit was to depart Iraq I came down with a mysterious stomach virus and was put in the hospital. Well it was mysterious to the doctors, not to me. I would put up with it until my unit was gone and then I would be over it. This worked out very well for me. I left Iraq one week after my unit and arrived the day after they had left for home from Fort Stewart. I had a week of debriefings and turning in gear before I was released to go home. I was given a ticket to ride the gray hound dog back to my hometown. I arrived about nine o'clock at night and caught a cab to my parents' house. They were glad to see me of course they asked all the normal questions. My mom wanted to call Frank and Annie but I told her I was tired and didn't feel up to it. I learned Frank had left the big college and transferred to the local school. I had the first good night of sleep in over a year. I woke up refreshed and ready to go the next morning. I went out to check out my car. When I opened the door I almost passed out from the smell. When Annie and I would soak the seat, I would always spray it and leave the windows down and let it air out. Frank and Annie were not doing that and it smelled like the proverbial French whorehouse. I finally took the back seat out and put it next to the fence on the back side of the lot. I soaked it down pretty good with some strong disinfectant and left it. I had a few errands to run and a little business to take care of. The next day mom told me that Frank and Annie were coming to supper. I told her I would be down at the "Dew-Drop-In" as I was leaving for Houston the next morning and I wanted to say goodbye to a few friends. I didn't tell her I was going to kick Franks' ass wherever I met him and I did not want to do it in Moms' living room. I told her I had a job with a company and I was going back to Iraq as a civilian. She cried and wanted to talk me out of it but I had made up my mind. I packed all my belongings in my car. I left the seat out because it still smelled and I didn't want to be reminded of Frank and Annie all the way to Houston and what they had been doing in my car. I was sitting at the "Dew" drinking my first beer of the night when Frank and Annie walked in and started toward me. I stood and waited as Frank approached and had his arms out to hug me. Damn, he sure was trusting. When he got within range I hit him once in the stomach and twice in the face and as he was sliding across the dance floor on his ass, I turned to Annie. The thought popped into my head, "You don't hit pregnant women." Pregnant women. Hell, Annie looked about five months along. She had a look of horror on her face and turned and ran toward the restrooms. I reached for my beer and it slipped out of my hand. I had popped my thumb out of joint. I guess I am going to stop drinking beer or stop meeting Annie. I twisted my thumb back in place and left the bar and then left town that night for Houston. My thumb hurt all the way but it was a good hurt. I checked in with the company and since I had filled out all the paperwork while in Iraq all I had to do was drop off my belongings and they would ship them. I picked up my tickets and paperwork and got the normal briefing. I kept a carry on with the essentials and went to south Houston and got a motel room for the night. I was to fly out of Hobby airport to Dallas the next morning. The man at the company told me I could leave my car in a lot there. I told him I had a friend that would take care of it for me. I probably made a friend that night as I left it on a side street with the keys on the floorboard. I hope he didn't mind that it didn't have a back seat and a funny smell. It was gone the next morning as we passed by in the airport shuttle. Well, I am back in hell but this time I am making good money. The sand is as dry and irritating as before and the bugs are just as bad but I don't mind as much. I am in a different place in Iraq and not in as much danger. I am going to stay as long as they will let me. I want to put this warning out to the college girls a couple of years down the road. The "Man From Hell" will be at a college near you and I will be searching for a piece of heaven. Just so you know I am not a complete asshole. I did call my mom and dad and set things straight with them. Frank and Annie can go to hell as long as it not my piece of hell. Dear John, Fuck You...Twice Dear John, I'm glad to hear that your conference is going well and that you were able to avoid most of the insipid speeches. While I don't have to deal with nearly as many business trips as you do, I'm rather familiar with drab, monotonous talking. I had to do a bit of traveling myself, yesterday evening. Without going into needless details about shopping (I know how much you hate that), I ended the day with a treat from Bath & Body Works. As I returned home, the sun was swiftly trying to bury itself in the intangible abyss of the western sky. Porch lights were coming on and the mischievous chirps of the crickets were in full effect. I grabbed my goodies bag and entered the house quietly as if I were a child sneaking in past curfew. After turning on some lights, I headed into the kitchen to our makeshift wine-rack. Everything that we had left on there was a bit more for "special" occasions so I just peeked into the fridge to grab the Bosca Verdi. No sense in drinking our good stuff while spending the night alone. I took the bottle and the little baggy upstairs to our room, walking straight through to the other end where the double doors kept our bathroom hidden and tucked away. I fumbled with the knob for a bit before I managed to budge the ever-stubborn door. You really need to fix that, John. It's quite annoying. At any rate, I skirted past the bullying door and went to go set my bottle on the floor by the tub. I really love our tub and its irregular shape as it does its best to mimic a spa. I sat my baggy on the edge of the tub before I headed back downstairs. I rummaged around for a few minutes grabbing some necessary items: corkscrew, glass, and a bucket that I filled with ice. I always feel so independent without you around, John. I don't like it; I'd much rather you were there to start this procession before teasing me with a foot rub...But you're not here so I must help myself. I'm back in our bathroom, armed with most of what I need to enjoy myself and the night. I sat the bottle into the bucket of ice after setting the glass and corkscrew down nearby. Satisfied with my setup, I started to release my brunette tresses from that pitiful hairstyle of a ponytail. I can't stay dolled up all day, John. Next, I dealt with the white sweatshirt that you always see me wear around the house. I slipped it over my head and tossed it to an increasing pile of laundry in the corner. I turned to look at myself in the mirror to see what a mess I was. My hair was lying lazily over my shoulders with my bangs still newly cut and covering my forehead. I smiled a bit as I looked at the angles of my face; ever since House on Fox added "Thirteen", you always insisted that my features "resemble[d] the beautiful structure of Olivia Wilde". I may resemble her a little with my cheekbones and chin but I definitely don't have that natural sexy lip pout. But I digress: I'm thirty-five and being compared to that beautiful young thing. John, you're such a charmer. I hadn't bothered to wear anything under the sweatshirt so the slight coolness of the house had instantly begun massaging my little buds of happiness to life. Can you imagine it, John? Are you going to let the house's air conditioner have its way with me? For shame... I then decided to start up the bath so that once I was fully undressed, I would have the warmth of the water to cradle me in its embrace and guard me from naughty ole air conditioner. I stepped towards the tub, careful to not knock my glass over lest it broke and I got cut. Now to my goody bag! I reached in to grab my Stress Relief Eucalyptus Spearmint, my favorite bath salt. John, I know that you do not find this exciting but think of the way that you barely keep your hands to yourself as I snuggle up to you and let you inhale my scent. I think your exact reaction is always a thick finger on my bum...Although that's a bit weird since both of your hands are in front of me where I can see them. I turn on the hot water full blast while tweaking the cold knob just enough to subtly add in the coolness. As I stopper the tub I sprinkle some of the salts in the cascading waters, breathing deeply as I take in the alluring smell. I stand back up to let the water run its course and create my sensuous bath for me so I can continue shedding my clothes. At this point, I only had my loose denims and a pair of sneakers still on. I couldn't stop myself from breathing deeply as much as I could in order to take in the bath oils so I began to disrobe quickly. I slipped off my sneakers, not even bothering to untie them. Everything else, I got in one fluid movement; after unbuttoning my jeans, I hooked my fingers on them and my panties and pulled while simultaneously using my feet to take off my socks and stepping out of my jeans. I felt a bit giddy as I knew that I would soon be entering the watery blanket that awaited my body. I didn't even mind that the air was again feeling me up and touching between my legs. As a matter of fact, because my soft lips had been cooped up in the jeans all day it welcomed the devilish activity of the air currents. I reached down and grabbed the corkscrew and bottle, fumbling with it until I got it open. I grabbed some tiny chunks of ice and put it at the bottom of the wine glass knowing that while I was in the tub the wine would lose its chill faster. Remember how you taught me that? That, among other things like how to keep certain things hot... I poured some wine into my glass and now I was ready! I cautiously started to sneak my left foot into the steaming water. Careful, ever so careful. Didn't want to scald my pretty little feet that you loved to nibble on. It was so toasty, yet so comforting. Having braved one entire foot up to mid-calf, I was ready for the other leg. I slowly took a sip of the wine as I got the other leg in for the hard part was coming; letting the purring waters soak up into me and through my legs and finally to my little soft tender lips. I started to bend my legs and go down. It was hot but I could take it. Down further. The water started cupping my booty. Down more. Liquid pools streamed between my cheeks and up further. I finally was almost sitting completely and the water greedily encompassed the crevices of my lower body. Now I just straightened out my legs and let the waters gently hold me in place. I drank more of the wine to combat the oncoming sweat I was starting to feel at the roots of my hair. But, John, I had miscalculated. While my body was indeed being enveloped by the warm caresses of the water, my poor breasts were still not submerged in the water. Because of the heat of the water, I had developed a slick sheen of sweat over my breasts and the combination of the moisture and the air was causing my breast buttons to have mini erections. Just after I had noticed that, I took another drink and some condensation from my wine glass dripped down and over my right nipple, John. Why did the elements want a piece of me? I couldn't allow it. Only you were allowed to touch over my body, my breasts, my booty, my lips... I sat the glass on the edge of the tub and placed both of my hands under water to warm them up. A few seconds later, I brought them up to my breasts and massaged slowly, occasionally bumping them together. The sensation of the cold leaving my breasts was magical. Since that was so successful, I decided to give my breast buttons the same attention. I gripped them both using a technique that you used so often. I trapped them between my index and middle fingers and pulled at them as if my fingers were tongs. I remember how you used to pull at them like this as you bathed with me. You would be behind me tugging on me like this as you kissed me behind the ears. I closed my eyes envisioning that you were right there with me, fondling my nipples as I felt your hardness thumping on my lower back. While keeping my left hand at work with my nipple, I grabbed the wine glass and leaned back against the tub. To me, I was laying in your arms as you played with me. My left hand became yours as it started traveling downwards and grazing my tummy along the way. I drank more of the wine, emptying the glass this time and sitting it back on the edge. My right hand was free again, John. Your right hand. I reached in slowly to rub my breast some more as my left hand trailed down towards my nectar breeder, undaunted by the trembling in my stomach. Do you remember how you handled me this exact way when we visited your parents that time? You knew that the bathroom was right next door to their bedroom and you insisted upon groping me. You kept massaging my right breast just as I'm doing now as your little devious hand found its way to my clitoris. You just kept on circling it again and again while mistreating my chest. You knew that I had to hold in all the moans that I wanted to let escape for fear that we be heard. But you only increased the teasing. You forced my legs apart and started inserting your fingers into my pussy while whispering, "You better not get us caught." Right after that warning, you used your body weight to push me forward onto your murderous finger and sucking on my earlobe. I never had a chance. That little maneuver of yours caused me to let a kitten whimper out. As punishment, you bit into my back right shoulder and took your fingers out of me. I had to beg you through hushed whispers to please enter me again. You only did so after making me promise to better control myself. I remember quietly crying out my orgasm as you made me cum right next door to your parents. That night, I couldn't ride you hard enough at the other end of their house as you almost caused me asphyxiation with the choke you held over me to keep me quiet. Did I cum three times or four? I guess you wouldn't know as we fell asleep, me on top of you with me still covering your penis with my wetness... At this point, John, I already had two fingers inside me sloppily sloshing away. I couldn't do it like you but it still felt good to me. I had long since taken one leg out of the bathtub and hung it over the edge. The sensation of having one leg experiencing extreme cold while the other was trapped in warmness does amazing things. My breasts were finally enjoying the warmth of the water as I've slid considerably far down while playing with myself and maneuvering my leg out onto the edge. I was so hoping that you could've appeared at that moment and do what you do best. But I just kept on plugging away reliving our moments out mentally and channeling it through my fingers. My middle and ring fingers were doing a formidable job. I had hooked them into my little glazed hole and was trying my best to move in an elliptical motion just as you had showed me. I had started to get it down finally and my body was trying to steal the show. Having become impatient with my fingers, my hips decided to work themselves over my poor fingers. All the commotion was causing waves to be created in the tub but I didn't care. As I got into a rhythm that I hope to be able to achieve again and again, my right hand left my breast and went up to my hair, pulling at the sides of it. It felt so good, John, and triggered another set of memories. I recall that time we were having an argument in the kitchen about your decision to make that huge purchase of the television without talking to me. You had come home from work and I, admittedly, had chosen this very wrong time to bring up the TV when you had bought it the day before. I was telling you that you were irresponsible and didn't value anything that I had to say. You asked me to let it go and let's talk about it later. I refused, though. I had all day to think about it and I wanted to talk about it then. You started walking away to come upstairs and I had a bowl of ice-cream in my possession. I threw it at you but missed. The anger that was in your eyes as you turned around...Your jaw was set and you didn't say a word, you just walked towards me with a glare while I cowered against the counter. You grabbed a lock of my hair, sort of how I was pulling at it in the tub, and started pulling me. I had my hands on your arm and was begging you to stop but you just kept pulling me, eventually leading me up the stairs. As we got to the room, you shut the door behind you and you were still holding onto my hair. I was crying at this point but you didn't care. You pulled me along towards the bed and slammed me onto it with my hair still in your hand. At the same time, you had brought all of your body weight on top of me, knocking the wind out of me. You had a message for me that you growled in my ear as you lay on top of me and it was a simple one: "Don't ever fucking throw anything at me again. Do you understand?" I was busy crying but I did manage to nod my head despite your grip. I had on a tattered T-shirt and some black boy-shorts. You started ripping at the shirt until you tore it all the way off of me. Inevitably, my shorts were the next to go as you slid them down my legs. I couldn't turn around as you still had a grip on my hair but I did hear the sound of you sucking your fingers. Without ceremony or prelude you started sliding your fingers into me as you had me impaled on the bed. You kept going in reaching all the way up to where my little spot was and paying extra attention to use your thumb and rub on my clitoris. Soon my sobs were ceasing and they were being replaced by little baby moans. As soon as you had me good and wet, you took your fingers out and released me while I assumed you were unzipping your pants. I kept my head face down on the covers, my little booty all wet and exposed. Then I felt you back on top of me. I could tell you didn't take your pants off but you had the part of you that you needed out. And then you began. No caresses and no whispers of love. You had planned to punish-fuck me. So I had to pay. You grabbed the back of my hair this time and slid your cock right into me. I moaned out so loud and you just pulled my hair tighter. You came all the way out of me and slammed right back in. The impact made me cough, but I wanted to keep coughing...You obliged me, John. For the next twenty minutes or so you deeply impacted me, and I don't mean emotionally. Never once did the tempo speed up with rhythmic sex. Instead you continued to plow into me, pull out, and then slam back in. I was coughing, moaning, and cumming. On your last pump, you came into me while I was busy gasping for air. Afterwards, I felt your tongue inside me sucking out your most recent deposit. You knew how much I loved for your cum to sit in me after sex, but you wouldn't let me keep it because of the punishment. I couldn't complain, though, because you took me to the bathroom and washed my hair and bathed me. John there was so much water on the floor now as that last memory had brought my body to doing jerky movements. It wanted to cum, no matter what. My hair was soaked, my left hand was so tired, but my pussy wanted so much more. I had to get out of the tub. I left the bathroom a mess as I headed for the room. Don't worry; I later cleaned it up. I went straight to my toy-box that I keep in my closet. Oh, and by the way John, I have a surprise for you. I go and grab my favorite toy: the butterfly vibrator. You've known that I loved the butterfly for a while now. Today, though, the blue dildo became a favorite of mine but back to yesterday. I got some batteries and loaded up the little butterfly gadget. Whoever thought of this was such a genius. I mean, really, a tiny vibrator that's stuffed into a rubber fake butterfly. A butterfly that has straps on it so you can wrap them around your upper thighs. With the straps in place you could fasten them, thereby plastering/forcing the vibrating butterfly to endlessly jiggle your clitoris for multiple orgasms. I attached it to myself, John, and turned it on maximum. My hot little pussy is on so much fire from my memories of us. I got into the bed and lay on my back. I'm still kind of wet from the tub and I'm soaking up everything. However, I didn't care because the little butterfly was already at work fluttering on my clit. I closed my eyes and grabbed the headboard as I imagined it was your tongue down there at work on my pussy. Yes, John, just like that. My hips were grinding into the air searching for a tongue that just wasn't there, but yet wanting more. It was beginning to be too much for me. I couldn't take it but I had to. The little thing just wouldn't stop humming my pussy to life and now the water on the bed was being joined by sticky little juices. My hips started raising off the bed more and more but I was holding on to the bed so I wouldn't be orgasmed away. You were eating me so good John and added to the memories of you punishing me in the bed that day and forcing me to cum in your parent's house, it was coming to a familiar ending. I started yelping out and tears starting dropping from my closed eyes as the butterfly was sending me to orgasm. My grip on the bed weakened as I slumped down. The problem was that I had no energy to turn the damned device off. As I lay there in my fragile state, the thing kept right on buzzing until I soon found myself cumming again. I mustered all the will power I could so I could snatch it off of me. Wasn't it good for you, John? Well, it shouldn't have been. Remember I said I had a surprise for you? Today, Tim from next door wanted to know if we had any trimmer string left and I told him I don't keep up with that type of stuff. However, I decided to give the garage a look just in case I spotted something worthwhile to him. Unsurprisingly, I didn't find what he was talking about but I did find something that was worthwhile to me. While I was trashing the garage looking for string, I came upon an old shoe box sitting on top of the freezer. Yes, that's right. You can start letting your heart pump faster now. I don't need to tell you what I saw in there, John, but I'll do it anyway for effect. It turns out someone is quite the photographer. Can you tell me why is it that I saw a handful of pictures of Kylie from the office in these very provocative pictures?!? Can you tell me, John?!?? What the hell is the meaning of this? How long have you been fucking that little bitch? I mean, seriously, there's literally a picture of blonde Kylie in OUR bed!!! And another one where she's in my fucking bathroom, wearing some of my night shirts. What type of fucking man are you???And my favorite: You actually have the nerve to have her in my bed with a blindfold on and my blue dildo stuffed in her pussy!!! What did you do John? Tell me, what the fuck did you do?!! Did you fuck her like you fucked me that time in the blindfold? That was OUR thing... The way you came home that time and was upset because I didn't have your special shirt cleaned for the mini golf tournament you and your buddies were having. You came home and asked had I washed it. I had told you that I was too busy and had to get ready for a business dinner. I was standing at the sink in the kitchen and you had said, "Well, because my shirt isn't clean I'm going to be delayed so since you're inconveniencing me, let me return the favor." You turned me around so that I was facing you and you and started kissing me roughly. I pulled back and told you to not do this but you just started kissing me again and using your hands to ruffle up my hair. I screamed for you to stop it and you said, "Stop what? Stop trying to fuck my hot wife?" After you made that comment, you pulled my skirt down right to the floor exposing my soft pink lace panties. I tried to get away and fix my hair but you held me in place with your body and pulled my hands back down to my sides. I pleaded and begged in between your kisses but you wouldn't let me get away. At one point, you even recklessly snatched open my blouse, leaving some of the buttons dangling uselessly. As I tried to sidestep you, the opening between my legs was enough that you easily took your left hand and began moving my panties to the side. As always when you start taking me over, tears began to form in my eyes as I realized you were not going to let me go until you gave it to me. Dear John, Fuck You...Twice Now that my blouse was ripped open, you fed your hungry mouth onto the top of my breast leaving red all over the place as you sucked and bit into me. All I could do was offer up my chest more like a horny slut in heat. You took your hand away from my pussy long enough to aid the other one in unsnapping my bra. I just wanted you to hurry up and fuck me so I could leave. You put your slender middle finger back to my pussy and began entering me, knowing that my pussy would want to hump it for all it could take. As you slid the finger all the way into me, you stopped your assault on my breasts and moved back some so you could look me in the eyes. I just sat there looking at you breathing hard focusing on your hand down below. Instinctively, I began humping your finger and balancing myself with my hands on the sink all the while cursing you in my head. You made me feel so good. Then you told me if I wanted to act like a whore so much, then I should just get on my knees. What the hell??!? But I did it anyway. I let go of the sink and immediately got on my knees. I wasted no time in freeing your dick from your pants. I remembered the last lessons that you had given me on pleasing your dick so I made sure to purse my lips as your favorite Olivia Wilde could and then I gave you full eye contact. I slowly stuck out my tongue and licked the tip of your dick. You caressed my hair, silently praising me for remembering the technique. Then I started to move my head in spirals always moving forward so that my tongue was coming into contact with more of your juicy cock. As my tongue was spiraling over the head, I did the next step. I kept my tongue still on the underside of the head and I pushed my head forward and closed my mouth, but just around the head. You caressed me again, so obviously happy with my progress. The next part was easy: it just required that you take my head and fuck your dick with my face. You started slowly enough but then progressively got faster until throaty sounds was coming from inside me and slobber was streaming down your shaft. Since you were satisfied with my cooperation, I thought you were about to let me go. Instead, you just stood me back up and took me upstairs to my closet. First you blindfolded me, and then I heard you shuffling through my toy-box. I was led back to the bed and then turned around. The back of my legs was in contact with the covers and you told me to sit down slowly. I did as commanded and slowly bent my knees so that I could sit down. However, you had tricked me...As I neared the bed, I felt the coolness of a rubber phallus. I stopped in surprise but you told me to continue. So I continued lowering myself onto the phallic rubber eventually stopping once I was resting on your fist. Then you told me these magical words, "Fuck yourself." I lifted up part of the way and came back down slowly. You started pinching my right nipple with your other hand and the tingling that was going through my body made me speed up my "fucking". Soon, I could hear the squish that my juices were causing over the dildo and I started getting into it. I soon was trying to move farther down the dildo than your fist was allowing and then you angled it in such a way that it was pointing right at my walls. I remember going faster and faster until you caught me by surprise and stabbed the dildo into me as I was coming up. You had coupled that action with pinching my nipple really hard and the two actions caused me to cum as you reached out your arm to catch me from falling. You put me onto the bed and said, "You can go now." I just remained on my side in the bed curled up in a fetal position with my blindfold on. When I was able to speak again I just said, "I don't want to go anymore." You reached over me and kissed me before putting me under the covers. So see, John? You had fucked me good and right with that dildo and then you go and stuff it inside some other woman's pussy? Did you enjoy it? Had she cum as hard as I had? I'm torn up right now, John...You know what? FUCK YOU, JOHN!!! Fuck you for fucking with that little blonde bitch. Fuck you again, as my promise to what I want to do to you when you return home... In the meantime, I shall be re-staining the blue dildo with my own pussy juice. Your ever-loving wife, Emily Connor Emily Connor Dear John (I Love It) Dear John, no, don't worry, it's not what you think, I don't want to break up with you or anything. (I just couldn't resist a little play with words.) Why would I want to break up with you? You're everything I want in a man. You're my best and most loyal friend, my funniest playmate, and my greatest lover. I love it how I feel when I'm with you. I looked through one of my drawers yesterday, and I found something I wrote in my diary when I was about 17. It was a list of all the things I wanted in my ideal man; he should be tall and handsome and clever and sexy, he should be romantic and sweet and generous and passionate, have a great sense of humor, and love animals as much as I do. There must have been at least 40 demands on that list, and as I read them, you know what? You match every single one. There are even things I could add to that list, now that I've met you. Just thinking about you makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. After all this time, you still make me feel like a romantic little girl! I love it how you're always there for me when I need your love and support. I love it how you can always tell the difference between when to hold me and let me cry, and when to chase my blues away with your crazy ideas. I love it how you call me just for minute, when you really don't have time, just so you can hear my voice. You make me feel so special. I love it how you spend your time thinking about how to pleasure me; how you listen to my words, and remember them, and 6 months later surprise me by fulfilling the dreams I've confided in you. It's not what you give that is the sweetest, but the fact that you've spend time planning how to make me happy. I love it when you say "talk, I want to listen to you". In a way, that's the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me. I love it that you show me that there are still things for me to learn. I love it how you challenge me to evolve. I love it how you make me want to become a better person, how you inspire me to strive to be the best I can be, and how you're always there to watch my back, to lend a hand, and always be the first to congratulate me when I win. And I love it how you spend hours exploring my body, finding erogenous spots that neither of us knew I had. I love it how we give and take, how we work together, play together. The way you grab hold of the pillow under your head when I lick your nipples and nibble my way down your sexy body, the way you bite your lip and breath through your mouth when I put my lips around your big, beautiful cock and suck it into my mouth. And then you sit up and push me down on my back, so that you can part my legs and put your head between my thighs; and your fingers know just how gentle they must be when you part my lips and kiss the ruby hidden inside. You play with me, moving your tongue over my clit, shifting between teasing the sensitive spots, and moving to an entirely new one, just to see my reaction. I love it how you tease me, and keep it back, and force me to wait, even though I'm so horny I could burst, and I cuss at you and order you to GET INSIDE ME NOW, DAMMIT, OR ELSE, and you smile that wicked smile at me, and just when I'm ready to push you down and jump on you, then you lift my legs over your shoulders, and come into my wetness, finally, and I'm in heaven, pure and simple. Dirty and simple, perhaps? No, there's nothing dirty about this! I love it how you taught me the importance of really long foreplay, because you were right, it does make your orgasms more intense. I come, over and over again; it's like a chain reaction in my body, spreading through my limbs, until my toes are tingling, my knees feel jointless, and my whole skin is electric. Every little touch turns me on, I can feel the soft cotton in the sheets, your warm skin, your hairy legs. You make my head spin with excitement. In bed, and everywhere. Hey, Wild Thing? You make my heart sing. And I long for you to come over, so we can sing together again. Your wife Dear Johnny For Johnny Dear Johnny, I'm writing to you to let you know how much I enjoyed my visit and to thank you for such a lovely time. You were just as I expected . . . He greeted me with a warm "hello" and a sensual smile as if we had known each other for years. He was dressed casually in khaki shorts and a white T-shirt stretched by his broad square shoulders barely covering the rounded muscles of his chest. I was ushered in and shown to the living room where wine chilled next to a pair of Waterford crystal glasses. Talking to him came easy, as easy as it had been on-line. . . . Lunch was delicious. I can imagine your panic when the maid called in sick and you were left to prepare the meal alone. Even the chocolate truffle was done to perfection. . . A timer buzzed in another room. He stood and beckoned me to follow him into the kitchen. The large bay window in the breakfast room caught my attention. The view was incredible. Little spot gardens and stone walkways covered the entire yard and all the flowers had begun to bloom. I couldn't wait to get a closer look. "Voila!" Johnny cheered, announcing lunch was ready. I turned and lunch was spread out on the table beautifully arranged like a garden itself. Johnny pulled out my chair and bade me to be seated. The Caesar salad was crisp and covered with an Italian dressing. Sunflower seeds sprinkled like freckles and a single cherry tomato topped it off. I dug in savagely. Johnny chose to start with tomato. He dropped it whole into his mouth taking a bite and squirting it across the table. We laughed when I tried to do the same but couldn't. The tomato basil pizza was the best I'd ever eaten, seasoned just right and finished off with a light grating of fresh parmesan. By the time I made it through dessert I was stuffed. . . . I was especially taken by the tour of the lawn. What a beautiful job you've done. I'm glad I finally took you up on your offer and decided to visit. The pictures you sent were lovely but nothing like walking in its midst. I was immediately taken by your contagious excitement and passion in your work . . . With the sun yet high in the sky, we strolled the lawn, hand in hand. He explained every little statuette with details of where it came from and how he'd obtained it. The fountains were built from parts of old ones. I moved closer to him until my hip rubbed his thigh. He spoke of the water falls, the plants, and the fish but I heard very little. I watched his lips. I had to concentrate to keep from reaching up and touching them. I wondered how they would feel, how they would taste. The sprinkling of the fountains was hypnotic. The tinkling seemed to be chanting romantic verse, only the heart could perceive. The rose's intoxicating fragrance caused lightheadedness, and I became jealous at the thought that he may have seduced his wife here, in this mini Eden. He took my arm and led me to the lawn swing but before I could sit down he pulled me to him gazing deep into my eyes. His eyes were as deep dark chocolate, hypnotizing. I wondered if they could read my mind. I could stare back. His face moved closer to mine and he hesitated. I closed my eyes, anticipating. His lips brushed across mine then settled with a gentle firmness. His tongue softly parted my lips and I obliged. . . . and could not seem to get my fill of it. Sorry if my inattention to the details offended you, I was distracted altogether by your elusive charm. My heart skipped as we sat. Johnny continued to reflect on his work, gesturing lively, but I was oblivious. I recognized his cologne, CK's Obsession. I inhaled his scent deeply. So captivated by his presence, my thoughts had no part of rusting windmill blades and concrete monkeys. I placed my fingers on his lips and traced. His voice stilled. When I had completely circled his succulent lips, he took my finger into his mouth and bit it. I yelped, then giggled. Long strong arms embraced me and I cuddled closer. Intent hands caressed my back and wandered to the zipper of my white linen sundress. I was startled back to reality. His eyes caught mine. I gave a half nod, granting permission, and he continued. The garment slowly fell from my shoulders allowing the sun to warm my bare skin. With a single motion he deftly unhooked the latch between my breasts and freed them. He whisked the hindrance back and cupped one swell in his palm and covered the other with his scalding mouth. My breathy gasp drew a wide grin to his face. My body tingled. I shrugged and my bra and dress fell to my seat. He held me with his eyes and I felt a little embarrassed. I tried to cross my arms in front of me but he caught my hands and insisted I lie back. The sun shone bright in my eyes forcing me to closed them. It tickled as Johnny fumbled to unbuckle my sandals and I giggled. I raised to my elbows as I twitched to help free them but he directed me to lie back once more and, again, I complied. My eyes closed again, I sensed him exploring his way past my knees. His hands were warm to my delicate skin and smooth as they maneuvered their way upwards. I felt his touch against soft cotton fabric. Up and down fingers rubbed, poking, then rubbing again. I shivered. They found their way inside and my body tensed, my knees jumped together and I gasped. I couldn't relax as Johnny urged. My whole body was taut and my pulse quickened. While I squirmed, Johnny managed to ease my panties away. He stood and hung them on the swing chain like a flag of surrender. Johnny began to undress, never taking his eyes off of mine. I lay on the swing as he left me. One leg thrown over the back of the swing, one foot touching the soft grass below. My body was completely bare except for my dress, wadded around my waist. Suddenly self conscious, I realized my position and closed my legs. He caught them and pulled me to him wrapping my legs around him. I gripped the seat of the swing and he entered me with a single thrust. I moaned and he grunted as he plunged in again and again, gripping my buns firmly and pulling me closer and closer, driving deeper and deeper to my very core. Pulsating began in my womb and worked its way to my breasts and down to my toes. I began to tremble. Just as I was reaching for release, he withdrew, raised my hips, and slowly inserted his steel member into my anus with smooth, deep and deliberate intention. I screamed. Orgasm instantly consumed me. I continued to yell as Johnny pounded and plunged and finally poured his hot juice deep inside. He held me there tight. I relaxed. He pulled himself from me and I collapsed against the swing trying to catch my breath. He too, fell to the swing and threw back his head with a growl. . . . To be there with you was breathtaking. With all my love, Carol