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An Open Letter

By: bigcarl796



An Open letter to all you
you sports fans

 By

BigCarl796
The Dirty Old Man

Hi Buddy, I just wanted to write and tell you, that I finally managed to meet your sweet young wife the other day. She sure is one fine hot looking young." MILF," with her long strawberry blonde hair, big bright blue eyes, full lips, nice big softball sized tits, narrow waist, well rounded hips. 

Oh Man, those, lovely, long, well toned legs, of hers are perfect. But Man, I don't need to tell you that.

But Oh My God, that Ass of hers, is absolutely awesome! Buddy, that lovely firm little heart shaped ass of hers, is to die for. 

Wow what more, do I need to say, my Friend, I'd love to bury my head between her milky white thighs, and...Well Pal in all honesty I'd jump your wife's, bones, in a heart beat, if I ever got the chance.

    You know, I've been eyeballing your wife, as she walked around the neighborhood pushing a baby stroller. 

Let tell you she knows she's hot stuff too. Because I've seen the way she's always seductively strutting her stuff, in her tight little blue jean shorts and those tiny halter tops that she wears, as she saunters along, swaying her hips, from side to side, with her lovely ass cheeks, slightly bouncing.

She's always with this sluttish looking older cougar; I figured that old broad was your wife's Mother.

Hey Pal, you know, that old broad doesn't look haft bad either! It easy to see, that she spends a lot of time in the gym, and plenty of money in the beauty parlor! 

Needless to say, it's quite obvious that; old fuck tart, still likes to flaunt her, hard, sexy, well toned body and good looks too.

Damn Man, that older woman looks; like a high class hooker, with her dyed, jet black hair, and the excessive amount of thick make up she wears on her face. 

Christ Man, her black tights were stretched so freaking tight, and fit her so smugly, I could clearly see her mount of Venus and the crease of her snatch between her well toned thighs. I could also see the crack of her nicely shaped well rounded ass.

Needless to say, the black sports top she wearing, purposely revealed her ample cleavage, her huge round bumpy areolas, and her big stiff nipples were clearly visible through the tight fabric of her top.

I couldn't help thinking to myself; that I'd love to get into, either one of these fine hot looking bitches.

So whenever, I'd see them, I'd always wave and say Hello, in hopes of getting acquainted with them, and maybe getting lucky with one of them!

Well Pal, I finally made a little plan to meet them...Honest Buddy, it was really simple.

All I did; was made, a bit of fuss over the kid, and played peek-a-boo with the little rag rat. 

It worked like, a freaking charm! I was able to start a conversation with them. I told them how cute I though the baby was. Then I complimented the women on their appearances, and asked them how they stayed in such great shape. 

I could tell right away that your hot looking wife, felt neglected and that she was starved for attention. Because she was all smiles, as she giddyishly responded saying excitedly, "Oh really, I workout everyday, trying to keep myself in shape."

Your wife was smiling brightly, as she looked me over. Then she glanced downward at my bulging crotch, and got a lustful look in her big bright blue eyes, as she longingly looked at the lump in the front of my jeans.

Pal, it was obvious; she wasn't getting it enough. I could tell that, just by the way she swooned, and giggled at everything, I had to say. 

Needless, to say, I knew you, weren't taking care of your horny hot looking young wife, in the bed room, for some unknown reason!

Your Mother was into the compliments too. 

She was all smiles and giggles, from my flattery too. I could tell, because she kept pulling her shoulders back, sticking her tits out at me, and seductively smiling at me, letting me know she willing, and available, if I wanted her.

Damn Man; your Mother, kept glancing down at my crotch, and licking her lips. So I kind of figured your old man, was suffering from some sort of erectile dysfunction and he couldn't get it up anymore. 

Buddy, the way, that old cougar was looking at me and starring at my dong, her mouth was actually starting to water. I though she was going to drop down on her knees, yank out my dick, and blow me, right there on the street corner. 

So what can I say, Buddy? I kept laying my line of BS on them. 

Then we finally introduced ourselves to each other. That's when I discovered the old cougar's name was Bunny, and she's your Mother, and your hot horny young wife's name was Terri. 

They excitedly and flirtatiously told me that they worked out together every morning in their condos, exercise room.

I told them, I just brought a condo in the same complex. Then we started chit chatting about our condos. 

When Bunny, suddenly noticed the way your sweet virtuous wife, was swooning over, my words, and starring at me, with an unmistakable look of lust in her big bright sparkling blue eyes, your Mother's mouth dropped open and her eyes got wide.

Well Buddy, I could tell right away your Mother, wasn't happy about the way your wife, was openly lusting over me! 

Then your jealous Mother's face, shrived up, like she just sucked on a lemon, and gave your sweet, little, horny, sex starved wife, the dirtiest look, I've ever seen! 

Then your Mother glared into my eyes with that same, ugly frown on her face, and told me about your big important job! 

Then she snobbishly asked me, what I did for a living. When I told her I was trailer truck driver, she wasn't impressed! 

Your wife on the other hand, though driving a trailer truck, was a very, macho, manly thing to do, because she said excitedly in her girly voice, "OH WOW Meat, do you, really drive those big scary things!"

That made your Mother grunt; with displeasure, as she cleared her throat, and glared disgustedly, at your wife. If looks could kill, your lovely horny little wife would have been dead; right there, on the spot.

Your wife replied innocently, in her too cheery voice, like she was being sarcastic, "Oh Mother Mayors, you know my fat nerdy little wimpy Oscar. is only an accountant in his porky Father's office." 

Your Mother, continued to glare at Terri, with hatred, in her mascara covered eyes, and mumbled something under her breath, about, her being an ungrateful little bitch!

I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't help myself, and I started to snicker. 

Oh I knew, your Mother, was just trying to protect your naive wife's innocents and virtue, from my sexual advances; by reminding me, that Terri was married to her son, and I wasn't in their financial league. 

I quickly got the hint and changed the subject. 

I invited them over for coffee, as I faked excitement about all the work; I had done on my new condo. What I was really trying to do, was to lure them over, in hopes of getting, either one of them, into bed with me.

Bunny gave me a funny look, and nodded her head, towards your wife as she declined my offer... for both of them. 

I looked at your Mother and winked, as I smiled at her knowingly. 

While I did that, I was thinking to myself. Yeah right Bunny, if you were by yourself. You'd run right over, and I'd have you flat on your back, with your legs spread, in a second.

Then I smiled innocently, at both of them, as I told them, my offer was always open, if they every wanted to stop by. 

I had just gotten out of the shower; when I heard my front doorbell ringing. I put on my bathrobe, as I went to the door. 

I was pleasantly surprised, when I opened my front door, and saw your beautiful wife standing there, all by herself! 

What can I say Buddy, I was really expecting your Mother to be the one to come over.

Your Wife, looked deeply into my dark chocolate brown eyes, like she was unsure of herself, as she said, "Hi Meat, I hope you don't mind, but I though, I'd take you up, on your offer." 

I smiled as I replied happily; in my best easy going sing song voice, "Hi Terri, It's really nice to see you again." 

Damn Man, my cock was already starting to rise and get hard, making a tent in the front of my bath robe.

Your wife slowly looked me, up and down. Then she noticed the bump, in the front of bathrobe, causing her to suck in her breath, and blush like a high school girl. 

Terri looked awesome. Her long blonde was hanging down over her pale freckle covered shoulders. She was wearing some light blue eye makeup on her eye lids with some black liner, and that hot pink lipstick on her full soft lips. I could also smell the sweet intoxicating perfume she was wearing.

While I was stood there drinking in your wife's beauty and sex appeal. I though about kissing her on the cheek or forehead, but I didn't want to rush her, or do anything that might frighten her away. 

She was wearing a loose fitting silk pink tank top. I knew she wasn't wearing a bra under it, because I could see the out line of her perky upturned breasts and the stiff points of her nipples, pressing against the front of her smooth top. 

She had on a pair of casual loose fitting black shorts, with pink flip flops on her feet. She looked both classy and sexy at the same time.

Then your wife asked, "Meat, if you don't mind? There's something personal, I want to talk to you about."

"Sure," I replied, "I'd be happy to talk to you about anything you want."

Terri looked at me tentatively, as she said nervously, "Meat I don't know who else to talk to about this. So I hope you are, discreet!" 

"Okay." I said, as I though to myself; here it comes. She's going to tell me, what I already know, her husband's, not banging her enough. 

Terri was standing right next to me, as I put on a pot of coffee. "What's the matter? I asked, as I slowly turned around, until I was facing her.

Terri looked into my eyes as she answered nervously, in a soft shy little girl's voice, "Meat is there something wrong with me?"

"No why, I think you're perfect. "I answered, as I though to myself, if I play this right, I'll have a brand new fuck toy, before the day is over.

Your wife was almost sobbing, as she went on to say, "It's my husbands parents, they don't like me! And their always with us, they never go home. If his parents aren't at our condo, were over at their's. 

When were not with them. Oh Meat, my husbands always working late, playing golf, or watching sports on TV. 

Meat he never has any time for me... and he never wants too... you know... Do you think, I'm ugly, or to skinny?"

Before I could answer her, and dispute her ridiculous questions. 

Terri went on to say," Meat do you think he's got a girl friend?"

Now that thought, never occurred to me! 

But I tried to look surprised, as I said," Jeez Terri, I think you're beautiful and sexy. But I don't know, maybe he has got a girl friend. You know Terri, sex is a purely a physical thing." 

I was trying to plant a seed, as I cleared my throat, and shrugged my shoulders, as I went on to say," We all have our sexual needs," Then I looked into directly into her big bright blue eyes as I asked," don't we?" 

While I was saying that, I was thinking to myself, what an asshole you are Buddy. I can understand; that you have to work, for a living, and you need to relax, and you want to watch a game, or play some golf once in a while.

But man, even if you do have, something strange on the side! Not fucking that hot, sweet, sexy wife of your's, is totally beyond me! 

Terri swooned, at my reply, "Oh Meat, do you really think, I'm beautiful and sexy." 

Then she looked into my eyes, as she impulsively wrapped her arms around my neck, draping her soft warm womanly body against mine. 

My cock got harder as I felt her big full firm breasts mashing up against my chest. My hard swollen man meat was poking right into her lower belly, as I put my arms around her, and pulled her tightly against me. 

Terri lay her head against chest, sighing, "Ohhh God Meat, I like the way you're holding me, with the feel of your big hard body pressed against mine."

I kissed her on the top of her head, and ran my finger nails up and down her spine, sending little shivers of pleasure throughout her body. 

I could feel your wife's nipples swelling up against my chest, as she instinctively began gyrating her hips back and forth and from side to side against my hard pulsing cock. Moaning softly," Ooooh God, Meat I shouldn't be doing this..., I'm a married woman."

As she said that, I kissed her ear, nipped her ear lobe, blew my warm breath into her ear, then I stuck the tip of my tongue into her ear, causing your wife to shove her hips harder against my cock and dig her finger nails into my shoulders. 

Buddy boy, let me tell you, your wife, wasn't even trying to resist, my sexual manipulations. 

She was obliviously enjoying them, because Terri turned her head to side, giving me better access to ear and neck, as I swirled my tongue around inside her ear, and rubbed her ass cheeks. Your wife began to shiver, with excitement, and need, as she pumped her hips against faster, against mine.

I gripped your wife's firm rubbery ass cheeks, and pulled her tightly against me, to hold her still, as I ground my pelvis against hers. 

Your wife moved her head and looked into my eyes with a look of pure animal lust in her big blue eyes as she sighed passionately, "Oh Honey we really shouldn't be doing this, you know, I'm a married woman."

I really didn't care, I knew if I didn't take her, and have sex with her, some other guy, would just end up fucking her, anyway.

I haft closed my eyes, parted my lips, as I slightly turned my head to the side, and whispered, "Terri you're human, and you need sex...Don't you? " 

When she heard, what I said, she sighed, "Oh God yesss. It's been sooo long... he never does it to me, anymore!" as she turned her head, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth.

When our lips met, your wife tightened her arms around my neck, and thrush her hips forward against mine. As my tongue enter her mouth, Terri's hands dropped down over my ass cheeks, and kneaded them, as she pulled me forward, and rapidly began pumping her hips against me. 

I swirled my tongue around hers, then I back it up a little, and flicked the tip of my tongue back and forth across the end of hers.

Terri pulled her mouth off mine, looked into my eyes, with her lust filled blue eyes and said desperately, "Meat, I really don't think, I should be doing this. What if my husband fines out?" 

I didn't want to push her, or do anything that might scare her away. 

So I let go of her, as I said, as sincerely as I possible could," Okay Honey, if you really don't want to do it, it's alright, I understand." 

While I was saying that, I was thinking to myself, this is just going to take a little more coaxing and gentle persuasion, on my part, to get your wife, willingly into my bed.

Terri's face was flushed pink with desire, as she said," Oh thank you Meat, for understanding, you know, it's not that, I don't want you, to do it to me...I really want you to...But what if my husband finds out?"

I looked at her, as I nodded my heard up and down, and kissed her on the forehead as I said, "It's okay Terri, I understand your concerns. " 

Then I winked at her, and devilishly grinned at her, as I raised my eye brows, and playfully said in my best naughty little boy voice, "But Terri, you know, I defiantly won't tell him!"

Your wife smiled and giggled, like a blushing, virgin high school girl, trying to be persuaded into giving up, her virginity. 

Then I winked at her and laughed as I said casually, "Let me show you around." 

I held her hand gently, as I slowly walked her around my condo, then I finally took her into my Master bedroom. 

Terri's smiled politely, as she looked around my bedroom, and seen my shinny new black bedroom furniture. Then her eyes got big as she looked at my big king sized bed, with the huge picture of a lion lying on his side, with paw over his lioness in the center of my bedspread.

Then I took her into the master bathroom, as Terri looked around at the black marble titled walls. She stepped in front of me, as she gazed at our reflection in the wall sized mirror across from my shower stall. 

I Have to say Buddy, we made a nice looking couple.

She looked like she posing, as she leaned back against me, and pressed her ass firmly against my dick. Then she took my hands in hers, and put my arms around her waist. 

Your wife tilted her head back against my chest. As I gently rubbed my penis from side to side, against her soft rubbery buns. 

I brushed her long straw berry blonde hair to the side and tenderly kissed the back of her neck, causing her to suck in her breath deeply, and sigh passionately as she exhaled.

She had this dreamy lustful wanton look in her big blue eyes, as she reached down, took hold of the bottom of her tank top, and lifted it up, exposing her perfect upturned, softball sized, pink tipped boobs, in the mirror. 

Then she asked softly, "Do you like my boobies, you don't think, they're too big for my body, do you?"

I reached up with both hands, and cupped one of her large soft rubbery tits in each of my big hands, and gentle caressed them. As I rubbed the tips of my thumbs, roughly back and forth across her pink nipples, causing them to stiffen I said, "Oh God No Terri, your tits are perfect."

Terri sighed softly, as she sucked in breath, closed her eyes, covered my hands with hers, holding my hands on her titties groaning, "Oh, Oh God Meat, I like that..." as I played with her nipples and squeezed her boobies.

Your wife was panting and trembling, as I kissed the side of her cheek, and nibbled on her ear lobe, while I played with her tits. 

When I started kissing and carefully sucking on that hot spot between her neck, and shoulders, making sure I didn't give her a hickey. 

She sighed, "Oh, God, I don't know how much more of this; I can take, before I become an unfaithful wife..." 

Terri looked surprised, as I reached down and put my arm behind her knees and lifted her up. 

She didn't even try to resist. 

Instead she wrapped her arms around my neck and began giggling, as she asked, "What do you think, you're doing? Are you trying to make me, an adulterous wife?"

I didn't answer her; instead I stopped and kissed her open mouth. Your wife responded passionately; by moving her head around in small circles, against my lips, and shoved her tongue, deep into my mouth and swirled it around mine 

As I carried her over to my bed; Terri looked into my eyes and asked softly, "Meat, do you think, he'll know, if we...do it?"

I winked at her playfully as I answered, "I'm not going to tell him, are you?" Then I laid your wife down on my bed.

She laid there for a second, like she was thinking, but she didn't she answer. 

I pulled her tank top up over her head and took it off. I lay down next to her, on my side and began kissing her forehead, eye lids, the tip of her nose, and finally her soft full lips. 

Man, your wife was dreamy eyed and sighing so sweetly, as I slowly began kissing, her shoulders and down over her chest, until I finally got to her breasts. 

When I started caressing and massaging her boobs and began licking around the outline of her bumpy hard areoles. Your wife sounded like she was purring as she began sighed, "Mmm, mmm, mmm...Oh yes."

I could feel your horny innocent little wife, beginning to lift and lower her hips. In anticipation of what, she knew was to come.

Terri reached down, slid her hand inside my robe and grabbed my dick, then she gasped, "Oh God Meat, you thing is so much bigger then my fat husbands, little wiener... Do you think...? He'll be able to tell, if you stick that big thing into me?"


An Open Letter: Falling For You



crazy

Do you have any idea how crazy you make me? Of course you don't—I haven't told you. You said your imagination runs away? You haven't even caught a glimpse of mine. Let me show you. Pay attention.

My mouth waters at just the thought of pressing my lips to your skin. It really doesn't matter where. I favor the neck, the collarbone, the swell of a breast, the in-curve of your hip, your thighs, your lips. My hands crave you. And I don't even know what you feel like. But I got this itch to touch you, to slide my palms over you and squeeze and stroke and capture you. And hold you against me.

I want to look into your eyes and smile and look totally calm, even though my heart is freaking out. My breathing will be falsely controlled. Do I look like I know what I'm doing? Cause I'm terrified you'll spook and bolt. What do you do when you're on the verge of something and you don't quite have it yet, but you plan and plot and dream.... oh, I dream...

We are standing with one foot over the line.

I can close my eyes and take a deep breath and in my mind I can do wonderful things to you.

I want to wrap myself around you and press against you and feel every inch of you. Are you wanting—as wanton—as I am? At that pivotal moment, will your heat compare to mine? Will your breath come in little gasps, will your heart throb and flutter as does mine?

wanton

I'm tempted.

Tempted to give in, to lean in, to pull close and envelop. I'd be all limbs and lips. Holding you close, begging you silently not to move—don't pull away. Come closer. Be against me. I want to feel you.

I feel wanton, I feel dizzy and out of control. I'm not trained. I am clumsy and new. How fast should we move? What do you like? What do you want? What can I do for you?

Simple little things. I want to hold your hand, feel your skin on mine, sit near you, catch your scent. I'll breathe you in. You make my mouth water and my heart quiver.

You make the core of me rev up and rumble and purr. You make me tense—only contact will give me relief.

I want to cradle you between my thighs, to feel your mouth on my neck, my breasts. Your hands all over me. Everywhere. I want you to touch me. Oh, do you want to touch me as badly as I want to touch you? I want to explore you with fingers and teeth and tongue. And dare I—may I—will you let me leave behind a little clue? A little mark? "Blue was here?"

I want to arch my back for you and mew for more. I want the room to spin though I'm lying down, and I want you to spin with me.

I want and I am wanton.

This part of me is hungry—this part of me I offer to you; I lay bare, unarmored, open.

impure

Fuck, what you do to me. Girl, you make me crazy. Your scent clings to me even after a shower, a subtle reminder of our closeness. I can still taste the memory of your lips on mine. My body remembers the feel of yours against it, of your hands on my neck, my shoulder, my side and my hip and my breast. Your thigh between mine, so close to my core. My skin aches for yours. My tongue wants to trace your jawline, my legs want to twine with yours, my fingers want to slide between, curl inside.  

Your sighs, your sudden intake of breath, subtle shifting beneath me; what are you feeling, I wonder? Am I too timid to be bold, or am I giving you space, giving you time? I imagine you're as starved as I am. I've slipped my hand beneath your waistband hundreds of times in my mind, found your lips as puffy and hot and slick as mine. You hugged me with your most intimate muscles as I pushed past your defenses. I want to hear your noises of pleasure. I want to whisper you on.

Alternatively; maybe I'd perch on your lap, my fingers laced with your locks, thighs tense as you ease your fingers deep. I'd look into your eyes as I'm panting, feeling you everywhere, hyper sensitive of our every connection. Rub and nudge me into an arch, a gasp, a gripping of fingers and curling of toes. I'd bury my face against your throat and ride that sweet wave to the shore. Or claim your mouth with mine, lick your lips and suck your kiss.

Perhaps in sharing your bed, both warm beneath the blankets? I'd pull your breast into my mouth and flick my barbell over your nipple. I want to hear you moan. I want your hand on my wrist when my hand's between your legs. Or I could dip down, shuffle and slide beneath the covers, tuck myself in with your thighs on my shoulders. I want to know; what do you taste like? Will your musk make me light-headed as I lap between the lines?

fear

I feel myself tumble, losing my reserve, failing my restraint. I try to hold back; to keep my emotions, my heart, in check. I don't always succeed. What makes it so easy to love you? So easy, even while I'm so uncertain of your footing? So afraid of wanting too much, of loving you too much—I'm terrified of where we're going, what it all means. I can't not think about it. Every time I say it, every time I confess, I'm admitting it to myself as much as to you. I love you. I'm also saying so much more, so much I'm not saying, but feeling. My chest is tight (I'm afraid) and my mouth is dry (don't hurt me) and my heart is throbbing (I need you). I'm yours. So completely and irrevocably yours, and... is it too much? Is it still too soon? Are you prepared to take me in the ways I want to belong to you?

Crack open my ribs and hold my heart in your hands. There is no hierarchy in my heart. My love is absolute. I will do anything for you. Whatever you ask. I'm a happy purring kitten, curled up with you. When you're gone, I look for you.



An Open Letter from the Author



To a mother contemplating incest with her grown son. 

Dear 'Jocasta', 

Of all the incest that does happen, and incest does certainly happen, sex between a mother and son happens the least often. One can speculate on the reasons that the relations between family members happen and the incidences might be isolated occasions or more long term. There are most certainly bad cases of abuse, easily recognized; yet in some cases it might have been in some way purely beneficial. But as this activity is so associated with the more commonly bad, the uncommon good (or even the more likely neutral) consequences of family liaisons are suppressed. 

Modern psychologists know that all little boys go through an "Oedipal Stage" where they are jealous of their mother's affections, but is not necessarily directly a sexual focus or even overt physically. There are indications that unsuccessful completion of this stage of natural childhood development results in the condition called by the term "Oedipus Complex". The clinical definition is easily looked up, but is a form of fixation on the maternal love or Mother herself. 

The concern seems to be if the Complex hinders the relationship with other women. This is especially an important factor for the ultimate independence of the youth, to say nothing of what most mother's dream of - grandchildren. Most of the males do manage to cut the apron-strings and mate and produce offspring and life goes on as usual. 

But sometimes later in life, for various reasons, (and I imagine some are more common reasons than others in the normal spread of human variation) some men develop a sexual desire for maternal love or their Mother herself. While having a perfectly "normal life" sexually, into their mix of what turns them on is this kind of Oedipal fetish, which mostly is lived out in fantasy, with the Mother figure, either symbolically or personal. 

Here is a condition where sons are mature, independent, not innocent, and able to make moral and responsible decisions for themselves. They tend to have a great deal of respect for their mothers and would never impose their fantasy on her, knowing that she would never even consider it. Yet while anyone can think of many obvious reasons that a Mom might not be of a mind to make love with her son, yet there may still be some mothers, for whatever reasons, that might be open to such a union. 

Then if these conditions exist together, a lusting son, an open Mom; sometimes the signals might be given visually, or discovered accidentally, or they are put into intimacy incidentally; and this leads to incest. Is this a bad thing, a neutral thing, or something beneficial? Of course it could be several of those things together, as life is complex. But if some of the obvious things are not standing as impediments such as fathers, husbands, wives, possibility of pregnancy, etc.; then there might be less of reluctance, and a lot more connecting. 

Connecting in this way sexually, as well as other levels of love that exist already between the two, mother and son, is another way to express the love that is bonding them. The best definition of what this kind of love - this sort of incest - is this from someone called Jane, "incest is to an attempt to transfer [at least in one's imagination) the sweet physical joy into an already existing strong psychological bond which is essentially unselfish, affectionate and permanent." 

While of course that is the ideal, reality is seldom as neat, love is messy. As the French say, 'is that not so?'. You have been given a great gift. What if you had never learned of your son's desire? You as a mother are happy when your son gets something he wants, and are happy to provide if you are able. Just as any loving parent does. You have the knowledge of his interest. Would you rather to not have known, now that you do know? 

Now that you do know, the idea is to you yourself exciting. It seems naughty, yet it might not be, (or at least not so much) if all the circumstances are weighed and considered. (On the other hand, the naughtiness might be a turn on?) Most importantly to be asked, could anyone get hurt? If that is a risk, then that is cause for pause. No one suggests having relations where relationships are damaged. That being said, the idea is a turn-on, and you can see him responding to your more alluring attire. 

What next? How far to go? What way to test the waters? What if you could, what if you both did, what if it happened? What do you base your decisions on, how do you balance influences, what authority speaks to your heart's delight and your soul's comfort and your body's yearning? This is your quest, your question, your inquiry. Is it not? It is not untypical of other romantic dilemmas either. 

I can assure you that there are some who have had good experiences with their sons. I am, in fact editing a true story written by a son with his mother's input, about their long and happy affair. This was in an upper-class family too. So others have gone where angels fear to tread and found the footing fine and carpet quite comfortable, in fact. You have a better handle on how slippery things might be for the two of you. 

But if you would give your son his heart's desire, 

if it were in your power, and 

if it is something that you desire too, 

if there is no other man in your life, 

if he is free too, 

if there are no serious impediments, 

then maybe this IS all right 

and maybe it will be as fantastic as you both imagine! 

Best of luck and best of love 

Oediplex 8==3~ 

JOCASTA'S REPLY 

Dear Oediplex, 

I read your letter forwarded to me by our mutual friend, Joss. I thought about what you wrote. I have done some research online and at the library too. In addition, I have read your stories, they are well written, even if the grammar may need editing in spots. The il-lust-stated story you and Pandora's Box and Joss did together was excellent and played a part in what happened between my son and me, as I will explain shortly. 

I contemplated your last thoughts: 

But if you would give your son his heart's desire, - I always have given him whatever he wanted, spoiled him perhaps. 

if it were in your power, - It is, if I would desire to. 

if it is something that you desire too, - I drip at the thought of fucking my son, but I am reluctant, as it is a big step to actually commit incest, not something done lightly. 

if there is no other man in your life, - Husband died of cancer three years ago, no dating since either, and no wonder I am horny. 

if he is free too, - he broke up from his lady of two years over six months ago - no dating since for him either, I wonder if he is as horny as I am, I am sure he is. 

if there are no serious impediments, - None according to your guidelines. 

then maybe this IS all right - Maybe, but how can I be sure? 

and maybe it will be as fantastic as you both imagine! - if it does happen, it will be fabulous indeed! 

Long hours were spent in thinking about what I wanted for my son, for myself and what would be right or wrong. I cried about it and even prayed about it. I also read an article by the minister you recommended, Rev. Springer, about sex in the Bible, posted at this site*. Very interesting, indeed. So my moral compass might be spinning, but my libido has a magnetic direction all of its own - pointing directly to my son! 

I wanted to be sure that he was willing to move things from fantasy to reality and to my bedroom. But as you said, "What way to test the waters?" After several weeks of study and reading and praying, I devised a plan to have an 'accidental' confrontation on the issue. I needed to have my boy (grown man by now) masturbating while thinking about incest and me. I needed him when and where I could catch him at it and raise the issue which was creating the sexual tension between us. 

That is when I thought of your hot il-lust-rated story, "Slipping Into My Sleeping Mom". I registered and got access to the story. The great drawings by the artist known as Pandora's Box and the erotic description your text provide is a real winner. I personally got several cums from reading it. I knew my son would too, because of the many steamy pictures and sizzling action. Then I left it on the computer, so when one moved the mouse the screen-saver disappeared and there was the first panel - the cover page. 

I left this set-up for when I knew my kid (I'll call him Oeddie - LOL) would be sure to sit down at the computer. It was on Friday evening, I announced that I would be going to bed to read and that he could have the machine all to himself. Then I waited for fifteen minutes. I entered the den; the door had been closed, and caught him with his pants down - literally! I said that I had wanted to check on some file that I had not meant to leave open on the computer. 

Oeddie, spun a quarter-turn in the desk chair and pushed back slightly, so that I could see both the screen and his hand on his erect penis. He asked me if this was what I had wanted to hide, and gestured toward the screen. He was half way through the story and completely hard. I nodded, not being able to speak I was so keyed up. He asked if I liked that genre of erotica or if I had left the story as a gift for him. I replied with one word. "Both . . ." 

We talked for a moment about our mutual taste in pornography. He suspected that I knew of his Oedipus complex, since he had been concealing his dirty books about incest under his mattress since High School. I would come across them when I changed his sheets. In fact, that is how my own interest in the subject was sparked. But he didn't have a clue, until that evening that I also like to fantasize about mother/son sex. Now, however, the cat - make that pussy - was out of the bag. 

I wanted to get him stimulated again and suggested he read the story while I jacked him off. He brightened like a headlight with that idea. I pulled up a small stool nearby, and as I masturbated him, he finished reading the story. When he got to the part where the boy in the story entered his mother's vagina I used my mouth and gave a gulp on Oeddie's rod. I thought to make him cum, but it didn't happen. To many factors to fully concentrate on cumming he explained, when I looked up after sucking him through to the story's conclusion. 

He took off his shirt and kicked off his pants from around his ankles. Then he reached over and lifted my nightie from me. We were both naked now; the computer screen was the only light. We didn't say a word, either of us, as he took me in his arms and kissed me. The kissing continued, deep and heavy and lots of tongue play. He stoked my wet slit and then put in a finger, then two. I let my digits work their delicate magic on his wand. 

We knew what was going to happen that night, the heightened emotions and hormones made the atmosphere ripe with our pheromones. I expected my son to follow my lead when I took his hand and pulled him toward me, I was intending to lead him to my bed. But instead of rising with me, he pulled me back to him and shifted has weight off the chair, so that we both tumbled on to the carpet. Rug burn time. 

I was ready as I ever was to be entered, on my back, legs wide. He positioned us in quick order so that he was between my welcoming thighs. His manhood thrust with authority, but gently into my dripping channel. I came immediately; I was so turned on by the rapid ravishing I was receiving. Oeddie pounded on to bring me to a second orgasm in several minutes. He never let up and as my vagina tightened with its third climax I felt the wonderful feeling of his member swelling to his bursting point. 

Then my son came in me. The rush nearly made me faint, as a series of internal flutters in my womb responded to the gushing flow of his hot semen within me. It was a dream cum true, our separate fantasies united as our bodies joined in reality. After we had made a huge wet spot on the floor, we got up and giggled all the way to my bed. We continued for half the night with breaks for snacks and lots of cold drinks to cool our sweaty selves. It was a fantastic evening, that weekend we added being lovers to our relationship. 

He is an adult, and I am an adult and no one knows about our affair except for you and Joss. We write this letter to thank you both for having brought us together. We hope you get a good cum from our tale. Perhaps you might like to write it up as one of your stories. We would love to read that, and would be glad to supply more details if you want. 

Oeddie has been reading your works like me and his word says it all, 'awesome', especially the big il-lust-rated one done with all the incredible art by Pandora. Joss mentioned there was a sequel due out soon. Please let us know when it is published. Also can we get the copies of the photos collection you posted recently? 

Oediplex, what can I say to thank you for helping me to make up my mind and seducing my son. I hope you will continue your distinguished career in erotic writing, though you ought to find an editor (oeditor?) to help you polish the little rough spots you sometimes miss. But your stories never fail to make us cum. All our best to Joss too. 

Love and thanks from me and my son, 

Jocasta



An Open Letter to All Women



An Open Letter

Little One,

I'm sure you've heard it all before, of how men would just love to thrust their cocks deep into your chasm, to look down and watch you take their raging huge cocks deep in your mouth, your pussy, up your arse. How it seems that this is their perception of sex and power and self-esteem. How their view of sex revolves around the pure worship of their pricks when it's at full mast. Today, I am going to set the record straight and reveal the rest of the story, the one that isn't often mentioned or spoken or even whispered in private.

But such full masting worship isn't how it all starts. It starts so much simpler. We are walking past each other, or perhaps we are talking, or if I am graced with your company for a meal, we are sharing intimate conversation. And as we come close, to share a secret, a joke, a bite of food, I can smell your skin, the scent of your hair, and this is where it starts. My eyes wander to the soft skin at the nape of your neck, or shoulder or whatever happens to be exposed... and I start to envision what it will taste like, smell like, to place my lips against your skin, warm, soft, tempting, to feel that which is unique to you overwhelming my olfactory senses. My eyes bore in on what appears to be the tastiest of delights -- and inevitably it's not lying on one of our plates as we eat and speak. I may become momentarily distracted as I concentrate on the sensation in my mind, of trying to isolate your wonderful smell, the one hiding beneath the perfume and the odors about us, not the stink of sweat, but the smell of warm skin in sunlight on a not-to-hot day.

My tongue softly touches my lips, just barely peeking out to wet them, but I can already barely stand the temptation, the desire to nibble, to take your skin and enjoy how succulent it is. It tempts me, pushes me deep inside. I don't want to rape you, fuck you, make you mine; I just want to taste you and enjoy one little spot for this instant or all eternity (it is the same right now). My eyes return to yours, and now they burn with an intensity, one that you may take as flattering or perhaps you will feel a bit of fear because you misunderstand what their intensity represents. I am not staring at, nor thinking of your nipples, your pussy, your arse, but you as an unique individual, and I am peering into your eyes deeply, because I want to know if you can feel this desire burning within me and whether you want to entertain it. The conversation resumes, but now I am partially preoccupied in my mind, my hands pulling you to me, my mouth seeking out your skin, feeling the overwhelming sensations of being close to you, of enjoying you in a way far more delicate than just some mindless thrusting. I long to kiss you and to nibble your lip lightly, to hold you tight to me as I suckle your earlobe and graze my mouth over your neck. I want this closeness, this tenderness, this heat and sensation to revel in.

Perhaps I shall never get the chance to, by circumstance, by events, by my own fear that you will not welcome this form of attention from me, to go any further, and this shall be all that I get to enjoy -- the entertaining of thoughts from a distance. Or perhaps, something deep inside shall spur me on, and at some point, hopefully when the moment is just right, I shall place my mouth to your neck, tasting you as my nose inhales the scent at your nape. It is now that my mind first wanders on, thinks of what it would be like to taste and feel more of you, but I am in no rush, for this one little piece is delightful (for if it wasn't, I would have smelled, known in advance and stopped before I got this far).

The nose is a most amazing organ, capable of picking up nuances of scent that suddenly trigger an instant flashback to events so far gone that you could not consciously remember them otherwise. It is primeval, in that which we smell is rarely analyzed logically, but rather, is handled as pure emotion, desire, craving and sense without the misconceptions or clouding of the training the rest of our senses have received throughout the years. A magic trick can fool the eyes, a good stereo can fool the ears, a combination of heat and cold can easily fool the skin, but the scents we breath are purely animalistic in perception.

The moment has come. It is now, or perhaps never. I look into your eyes as I take your face in my hands, and kiss you, softly, pleadingly, gauging your reactions to see if this is welcome, wanted, shared. As with all men, there is some certainty to my belief that this must be wanted by you, but there is also the slight misgivings of doubt. I am waiting for a sign that will quench any misgivings. For you, it might mean analyzing a large variety of factors to decide if it is acceptable to kiss me, to want me, from a myriad of possible futures to my earning potential, from the social significance of being seen with me to the level of your own desires, but for me it is so much simpler at this instant -- I only want to know that you want that which I can offer you for this shared extended instant. I am not looking for you to promise me the rest of your life, or even the rest of the afternoon, but simply the knowledge that I do not trespass and that you welcome my simplest of desires.

Your eyes close and you give yourself to the kiss; a certain relaxation of some muscles, the way your eyes moved and smiled at their corners told me that you welcomed (or at least resigned yourself to) this. My kiss increases in intensity, and I am consuming you with it. I feel as if time freezes as I concentrate on this single kiss, extending it, drawing it out. If I am not careful, I shall make you weak and shaky with it, for it is so very powerful, so very intense, and I must realize that you must be given the chance to breathe even as I long not to stop, for inevitably, your blood does not retain quite as much oxygen as mine and you will pass out before I need to breathe again. I pull back, desiring nothing more than not to stop. I can feel you, unstable, gasp, your eyes flutter open and, if I have timed it right and the feelings are mutual, your eyes have a new sparkle, a certain radiance. That is the sign that I have been waiting for, praying that it shall come, the one that tells me that I can set aside any petty fears and not concern myself with worries about invitation, about limitations, about acceptance -- for this moment you are mine. And though the moment may pass, right now, right here, you and I encompass an entire universe unto ourselves.

I pull you close, to lend support, to feel you against me, woman borne by man, and now, finally, my mouth seeks out your neck, my nose inhales your scent truly, and my mind begins to imagine how the sensations of pressure against me from your body will taste, feel to my mouth as I make your skin my playground. Amazing from a woman's point of view, I have not yet thought of my cock or our unison though our genitalia, but rather, of transporting myself over your skin, millimeter by millimeter, exploring, caressing, tasting, kissing, smelling, discovering, knowing. If the time and place are right, perhaps this shall come to pass now, or perhaps I shall have to whisk you away from where we are to permit it to happen, or maybe, just maybe, that was all there was to it and the opportunity to go any further shall never appear again, but some cruel twist of fate or passion. But I have enjoyed what I have had, cherished it more than you will ever expect.

I kiss you again, this time holding your face in my hands, trying to give you a message of romance and security, that this is a safe temptation, that you will never regret this kiss, nor any other. And, if all things are wonderful, this kiss leads to another and yet to another, and to more yet again, all wonderful, each slightly different than the last. And for each of us, our fires are being fueled, our breathing a bit more ragged, our skin a bit flushed, our eyes sparkling. I shall lay you down, so that I can remove a piece of clothing and permit myself the time to delve into your skin, move across it slowly, deliberately. I can tell that you crave, and if you are patient, you shall have everything that you wish for... My hands wander and my lips follow, and I enjoy every second of it. The soft skin underneath your areola are particularly tempting, but you are going crazy, hoping that I will take your nipples and give them the same attention. I have the time to luxuriate in it all, I am in no rush, and my craving for you is building second by second. I remove your pants (skirt? dress?), and kiss your thighs, your ankles, the back of your knees. You know what is coming and the anticipation is pushing you to new heights, and your hips flex to try to capture a feeling where it burns most. Finally, I touch your warm mound, blowing a hot breath over it, and then kissing it softly, the most tender kisses. You want more, and you shall have more, but all in due time. All things which are worth having are worth waiting for. You want to scream, but it comes out as a muted, whispered plea...

As I start to suck your labia and caress everything, only now has my mind wandered to my cock, as it starts to truly unfurl and come to attention. I know that it's hardness is in direct proportion to your own level of desire (or at least my perception of it), although in this position, you can not see it. I relish in learning your intricate folds, your taste, in what is too little, too much, and just right, as I seek to raise you up to a peak and hold you there before trying to bring you to a higher peak. Perhaps you are easily orgasmic, and you are cumming regularly. Or perhaps you aren't, and the build up has made this all the more pleasurable for you, knowing that your release is coming. Everyone is unique and it is that uniqueness that makes you, and makes the exploring and discovery so wonderful for me. Now I want you to cum. I want to turn your body inside out and make the universe melt, to feel your pleasure and my power at making it happen. Right now, I will do anything to make you pop; I will say anything, do anything, try anything, if it brings you to that mind-shattering orgasm that I so want you to have. My fingers, my tongue, my lips, my hair against your thigh, my breathe hot against you, my words and actions, anything, for a I desire to complete this circle from first kiss to first orgasm, to feel myself bathed with your joy and pleasure. My cock is straining and perhaps a few drops of precum are leaking from the tip, and it is now that I feel the real power -- not in my cock, but in my ability to push you to pleasure. It is now that the whole picture reference revolves about an odd axis and with your orgasm, I want to thrust, to match your intensities, to make you feel as if the whole world consists of my hardness filling you in that indescribable way. It is now that I want to be a god for a while, the god of your sexual realm, and feel your insides cling to me as your skin, hot and sweet, clings to me. I want to kiss you and take you and make you mine, to mark you with the memory of what it means to be with me this way. Now it has become about pure carnal lust and cock worship and power and sex. I want to hear you scream and whimper, feel you shudder about my shaft, and know that you crave every instant of what is happening in a most rudimentary way. To push you and feel you and have you and take you. I want to feel you orgasm again, this time on my cock, feel your muscles as they spasm about me, whether it is strictly from the feelings you have within you, or whether your clit needs some manual stimulation is irrelevant, for it is us/now/here...

And yet... I know that when my own orgasm comes to me, it will almost assuredly have come because again I am concentrating on some single facet of you, such as the taste of that one bit of skin on your neck where this all started...

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by TheCyberPoet(tm) Copyright 2002, all rights reserved under US and international copyright law. No reusage without written permission of the original author. Permission is hereby granted to Literotica to publish this story provided there is no charge to access it by the public. 

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Blipvert: if you find yourself in the Tampa Bay area and might enjoy being the object of my desires, please, drop me a line... Of course, correspondence is welcome from all who enjoyed this writing, and please remember to vote frequently and regularly! 

Best Wishes, =-= CyberPoet 



An Open Letter to Anja Josephsen



Anja Josefsen is my all time favorite Penthouse Pet. In the past I have emailed the folks at Penthouse asking how I could write to her and was told that they had lost touch with her and don't know of a way to contact her.

Since Penthouse hasn't kept in touch with her, I'd like to present this open letter to Anja Josefsen in hopes that she is out there, Googles herself and finds this.

An Open Letter to Anja Josefsen, Penthouse Pet of the Month December 1992

Dear Anja,

It has been years since you appeared in the pages of Penthouse magazine, but you have left a lasting impression on this reader. I remember the day I bought your magazine. As a subscriber to Playboy, I always had my monthly exposure to beautiful women posing in the nude and as a man had my supply of erotic imagery to stimulate my sexual fantasies and my masturbation sessions. This particular month was different. Although the beautiful Barbara Moore graced the pages of Playboy as Playmate of the Month that same month, I was looking for more erotic stimulation.

I walked into the newsstand and saw Penthouse on the shelf. Gennifer Flowers was on the cover, with an pictoral and interview where she talked about her affair with Bill Clinton. I already had the desire to buy the magazine, and Gennifer's cover story was an added incentive to buy it. I took it to the counter to purchase and I was so nervous. What was the cashier going to think of my purchase? Would he judge me as a pervert who was going to be using this periodical for masturbatory purposes? Nothing happened, I made my purchase and took the magazine home.

When I got home I began going through the pages of the magazine, reading Gennifer's tell all about Bill Clinton and admiring her pictures. Then I got to the Pet of the Month section and was taken by your beauty. My god, you are so sexy. My first impression was that you were a hotter, sexier version of Paulina Porizkova.

My first instinct was to get my pants down to my ankles. At that time of my life, I would masturbate with my clothes on. My shirt would be on and my pants would be just above my knees or at my ankles while I humped my pillow or stroked off in the bathroom. It was always a safeguard against being interrupted or caught. I would have access to my clothes and be able to quickly get dressed if needed. This particular day that wasn't going to happen. I stripped down naked for you and neatly put my clothes in a pile next to me. I wasn't going to hump my pillow or jerk off in the bathroom either. I got comfortable in the room just inside the door of my apartment, positioning myself on the floor, leaning against the wall and opening my legs spread eagle exactly like one of your photos in the spread.

I positioned the magazine to my left outside of my legs to avoid hitting it. You see, speaking of Paulina Porizkova, I had made the mistake of positioning a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue looking at the picture of Paulina and Kim Alexis between my legs and the strength of my ejaculation landed in the magazine, giving Kim a facial and Paulina a pearl necklace. I had to dispose of that magazine and didn't want to have that happen again.

I wrapped my hand around my very erect and throbbing penis and started softly and slowly stroking myself. I was rock hard long before I got my clothes off from looking at you. It felt so good. I would look into your eyes and not be able to take mine off you. I took my sweet time masturbating to your pictures, spending extending periods of 10, 15, 20 minutes gazing at one page. My excitement would build up and I would slow down and back off just so I could enjoy that sensation in my penis without climaxing. The precum arrived pretty quickly and I massaged it in creating a lubricant for my penis. When I'm lubricated, I have the courage to explore closer to the head. You see Anja, I never touch the head of my penis since it is so sensitive. But when I'm lubed, I can touch that one spot just underneath the head and it is a heavenly situation. Having you look at me while I'm experiencing such pleasure was fantastic. I don't mean to brag. Maybe I do. But I can self confidently tell you that I spent two hours masturbating to your magazine that day and when I finally decided to let go and orgasm, it was one of the most intense and incredible feelings I had during self love at that point of my life.

It was amazing and created a special place in my fantasy life for you. I have masturbated to your magazine countless times, wondering what you would think if you knew and how you might react if you did or if you saw me.

You also played a role in one of the more embarrassing masturbatory experiences I have had. Years later, during one of my sessions looking at you and fantasizing about doing the most wonderful things to your body, I had the rather awkward and embarrassing experience of being caught in the act. I remember that day well too. It was MLK Day and I had the day off from work. I felt horny that particular morning and since I didn't have to go into work, I decided to satisfy my morning erection with some self pleasure. I took your magazine out and put on Shania Twain's "Come On Over" CD to set the mood. I once again assumed the spread eagled position for you and began my session. About 10 minutes into my session, Janice, my apartment manager walked into my bedroom and saw me on the bed in this very private moment and let out a startled yelp. Janice said "Oh my God. I'm so sorry." and ran out of my apartment. She had called later to apologize for what happened and explained to me that a message she got for a maintenance request was wrong. Whoever took the message wrote the wrong unit down. The request came from apartment 240, not my apartment, 214. The interruption killed the mood and the embarrassment brought my arousal down. After Janice called to apologize, you once again got me in the mood and I was able to stroke to orgasm.

Anja, I've wanted to tell you for years that I think you are without a doubt the most beautiful and sexiest woman to ever grace the pages of Penthouse magazine. I've also wanted to tell you for years that your magazine and your beautiful image has aroused and brought me to orgasm so many times. Society's norms have always made it inappropriate and socially unacceptable to openly express one's sexual desires and masturbatory fantasies, but this blog has provided me with a safe and anonymous way of expressing those feelings.

I hope that you find this letter, and that it finds you well. I also hope that should you find this and read, that you'd be so kind as to respond to tell me how you are, what you've been up to, if you ever married and/or had kids and how your life has been since you posed for Penthouse. I've always wondered and would love to hear from you to find out.

Yours always,

Brad Hamilton



An Open Letter to Carrie Jean Yazel



Dear Carrie,

It was once a rare thing were an admirer could reach out to someone and actively communicate and engage with that person, but today, thanks to the internet and social media, it is now possible. There has been so much I wanted to tell you and so much I wanted to ask you about with regards to your experience posing for Playboy magazine and the life of a Playmate.

When you first appeared in the May 1991 issue of Playboy magazine, I moved into my first apartment. For the first time in my life, I was living alone and was enjoying the autonomy and freedom that went along with that. This was important for me because I finally had the privacy that I needed to get to know my body better and explore my sexuality. Along with many other Playboy Playmates, you played an important role in that exploration.

Before this, I had to act quickly and quietly to fulfill my curiosities and satisfy my urges. My explorations were also secret that I harbored. I never told anyone what I was doing and always felt guilty and ashamed of my actions. It wasn't until I started reading Playboy that I started to learn that what I was doing wasn't abnormal.

This brings me to you, Carrie. I saw you in the pages of the magazine and you were so beautiful. I quickly got aroused from your photos and was ready to explore all those feelings and desires I had. This time, there wasn't going to be a knock on the door or anyone to hide from. I could take my time to enjoy the sensations all over my body while I pleasured myself to your photos. I learned how to delay orgasm by touching myself just to the point of release, then slowing down to let the sensation die down before I tried again. It took 5 times before the feelings were too much for me to handle and I reached an incredible orgasm.

It was your Playmate video that took my explorations to the next level. After looking at pictures of Playmates, I was finally able to hear your voice and watch you move. You have such a sweet, sexy voice and it felt like you were talking to me, telling me about yourself as I once again enjoyed myself. One part of your video triggered new fantasies, new sensations in my body and mind. Six minutes into your video, you were dancing topless in the kitchen eating honey. When you used the honey dipper and brought it to your beautiful mouth with all that honey spilling onto your beautiful breasts, I couldn't hold back and reached a volcanic orgasm. It was that day that I discovered something new that turned me on: bukkake. To bless your beautiful body with my essence is an image that I constantly think about to this day.

Now in this age of the internet, I've searched all over for pictures of you. I've compiled and collected as many photos of you from your Playmate spread, photos from Playboy's newsstand specials like Playboy Lingerie, appearances at conventions like Glamourcon, and anything else of you that I can locate. I'll dim the lights and run slide shows of your pictures, leaving me hands free to touch and caress my body while I look at, admire and worship your beautiful images. I've even connected with other men online who has mutual admiration for Playboy Playmates and we have shared photos and fantasies about you while we simultaneously pleasure ourselves while looking at you. I wish you could see the smile on my face during my acts of self love. You provide me with so much joy over the years and you've always been part of my sex life. Without you, my sexual explorations would be very different than they currently are.

I wish I could meet you and show you what I do. You wouldn't have to remove your clothes or touch me. I would just want you to see me nude and watch me as I fondle my penis in your honor. I've looked at your beautiful, nude body for years. It's only fair and right that you can look at mine.

Carrie, I hope you're not upset or offended by my confession. I've always wanted to tell you these things and was never sure how to tell you. I want you to know that these experiences have brought me tremendous pleasure over the years and I always feel happy and blissful after them.

I would love to hear from you sometime and hope that you might read this and let me know what you think about what I told you.

You still look as beautiful as ever.

Love,

Brad



An Open Letter to My Goddess



This is an open letter containing what I really want to say to my girlfriend, but can never quite find the courage to do so. Here though, I imagine what I might say if I were to send such a letter, and will follow this with what might happen as a result of the letter, in future chapters.

----

To my beautiful girlfriend,

You are the most beautiful, gorgeous and sexy woman I know. I love your long dark hair, your big brown eyes, your sweet smile and your curvaceous body. I love your perfect breasts. I love the little treasure trail of dark hair from your belly button to your gorgeous pussy. I love the way you are so loud and dominant sometimes, yet soft-spoken and sweet at others. I love how indulgent you feel when having your back rubbed, or your neck or your belly. I love the silly things you do and say at times, your cute laugh and the way you cry at soppy movies. I love how you smile or cringe visibly in front of the TV, and the noises and facial expressions you make when dreaming. I love everything about you, and even more that I am yet to discover, but most of all I love that you are my friend.

More than that, you are my best friend, the person who means more to me than anyone else in the entire world, my soul mate and my confidant. Yet still I find it difficult to be completely honest with you about all my desires and fantasies, to share myself completely with you.

I have tried to share some of these with you of course, and had hoped that as I revealed each little piece of the puzzle, that eventually you wouldn't need all the parts to complete the picture. I hoped that I wouldn't need to go this last step, because you would already have figured it out. 

So what do you already know? Well you have known ever since the first night we made love, that I was somewhat lacking down below. You were very nice about it of course, never mentioning it yourself. You probably faked an orgasm or two in those early days, maybe more, not wanting to show your frustration at my lack of size or damage my ego. Often, it would be my tongue that would give you the release my cock could not, but you never complained. 

Much later, I finally admitted to you how turned on I was by the idea that you would complain. I told you how I loved being told how tiny it was, how deliciously humiliating it was for me. And you began to embrace the idea, talking about how tiny I was loudly in public as we walked along the street, pretending to have told all your friends about it, and finally allowing yourself to show the honesty of your frustration with it in bed. Demanding that I push harder, telling me that you can't feel it, and trying to pull me in deeper. Sometimes it worked, and you have become quite adept at handling something so small to ensure that you still get what you need, other times it was back to my tongue again, though I often wished you would go even further, and tell me how useless I was and how my tongue was the only thing that could give you any pleasure.

Eventually, I was brave enough to reveal more, telling you about my thoughts of you being pleasured by men with much larger cocks. The idea of you fucking them because of my lack of manhood, to get the pleasure that I could not give you. I even mentioned the word 'cuckold', but you weren't familiar with the word, and I found it difficult to reveal all that being a cuckold involves for me, embarrassed perhaps. Nevertheless, you seemed to get the idea. You would regularly tell me that you didn't want sex tonight, because you had already been fucked twice or more that day by a variety of men. You would tell me stories about your fake promiscuity, and watch me squirm with delight. You began to compare how my cock felt inside you to how theirs might feel as we made love, whispering in my ear that you had been stretched by all these big cocks, and could feel me even less now than before. The thought was too much for me often, and I would cum way before you were ready, although that wasn't much different from usual in all honesty, and so again my tongue would give you the pleasure my cock could not.

I wanted to go further, I wanted you to know more about what I desired and what I wanted, but more on that later.

You also know how much I enjoy you taking the dominant role sexually. I know that's not really your thing. You want to be fucked hard, hands pressed behind your head, taken roughly. But you are so good at it. You are a strong, powerful woman in life, and that is one of the reasons I was so attracted to you when we first met. I could see from day one me on my knees, following your orders. There was one occasion not so long back, where I thought these fantasies were finally coming true. You remember taking my credit cards and going shopping, coming back with bags of clothes and shoes for yourself, leaving me a huge list of chores to do, cleaning the toilet, the floor, doing the laundry. I did it all rushing around, trying to make sure all was done before your return, a bulge in my pants all the way through. The first night you came back, and made me lick you to orgasm, denying me self-release. The same again the second night, and by the third night, I was out of control with lust.

You didn't like it. You said I was too out of control. Too weird. You said the same thing, the time I convinced you to place nipple clamps on me. The sensation driving me insane, uncontrollable lust in my eyes. You know too about my desire to be pissed on, and you have said that maybe one day, in the right environment, maybe you will give in to that desire. Then you would the same weirdness in me, the same wildness.

What else do you know? Well you know I have a large number of kinks! You know I am into exhibitionism and humiliation. You know I love your naturally hairy body, even though you insist on shaving. You know I love to lick your asshole, even though you find the thought disturbing.

Maybe I am too weird for you? Maybe that's why you have not put all this together, and worked out what it is I really want. Maybe it's because you don't want it. But I want you to hear what I have to say, I want you to hear how it will work for you, not just for me. I want you to hear how you deserve more, and how I can give you more if you let me, and how at the same time, this will help to meet my own fantasies more than you could ever know.

So where are we at right now? Well things haven't been great sexually recently. You know that. For one reason or another, you want sex with me much less often than ever before. We often go weeks or months, sometimes even longer, without any at all. The roleplaying and little quips about my tiny size have gone. When we do have sex, it is obvious you want me deeper, pulling me inside you and yet still you do not get the satisfaction you crave. So maybe that's why it is less frequent, maybe there is no point when I cannot satisfy you the way you want. Meanwhile, my sex drive remains undeterred. I want it all the time, but mostly I am rejected, unworthy, and have to resort to my hand instead.

Where does all this lead to now? Are we destined for a life of infrequent and bad sex (for you at least)? Will we forever now have to repress our desires? I would not want that future, and I don't think you do either, which I think leaves a handful of options.

Option one would be to go our separate ways. You could find a guy who had a normal-sized dick to give you the satisfaction I can not, fall madly in love and be happy with a normal, uncomplicated relationship. Meanwhile, I can go on and try to find someone else to fulfil my desires, or at least keep trying. I can see how this option might appeal to you. A fresh start. None of the weirdness, and none of the complications I bring. But I don't think either of us want this really. Could we really separate, not see each other everyday, confine all the happy memories we have built to the past and move on? 

Option two is one you have suggested before. In that frustrated, tired way, when you have had enough of my weirdness, and you tell me to go and find a professional domme to satisfy my sordid fantasies. To pay for some leather-clad dominatrix to humiliate my tiny dick, piss on me, spank me silly, torture my nipples, and so on. You are clear that I am not allowed to do anything sexual with them aside from that, but it's an idea you have floated. I have to admit to having been tempted by it, especially recently, but it's not what I really want. It would be second-best, and it would still leave you unsatisfied. Maybe you're just not into sex any more, as you have pointed out, but I don't think so. I think you are just not into sex with me any more, which leads to option three.

I want you to cuckold me. I want that both because of the humiliation I crave from it, and because of the pleasure I know it will give you. And for once, I will try to explain what I really mean by 'cuckold', and lay it all out for you to consider.

1. I want you to never let me have sex with you or anyone else ever again. I want you to tell me how someone as tiny and pathetic as me doesn't deserve sex. I want you to lock me up in a chastity cage and be the keyholder, to let me out only when you decide, on the rare occasions you let me touch myself.

2. I want you to demand my tongue whenever you see fit, focusing totally on your pleasure and not my own.

3. I want you to have my credit cards and bank cards, giving you all the money to shop and pamper till your heart's content.

4. I want you to give over chores to me. Tell me what I must do and expect them done. Maybe give me the incentive of being able to touch myself if it is done right, and punishing me if not. Make me do all the laundry, all the cleaning, all the cooking. Make me massage your feet, bathe you, do everything in your service.

5. I want you to have sex with other men as often as you desire. I want you to go out dressed up all sexy like you do, and experience the chemical thrill of lusting after another man, and being lusted after by strangers. I want you to experience a big cock inside you, a cock that fills you up completely, and hits all your pleasure zones. I want you to find men who will fuck you the way you really want, who will pin you down and take you rough.

6. I want to you to come home and make me listen to all the sordid details of how he fucked you better than I ever could, detailing every position, everything he made you do.

7. I want you to force me to watch sometimes. Force me to watch the pleasure on your face and echoing through your quivering body. I want you to force me to hear you pant, and moan and scream as he fills you with his cum.

8. I want you to force me to clean you up, licking his cum from your used pussy or ass. 

Now one of the things you might ask is how this would really work. I mean wouldn't I get jealous. You know I have got jealous in the past, you know it has caused arguments and rifts. This is different. This is not you getting friendly with some guy in secret, flirting, secret texting, phone calls and all the jealousy that would come as a result of that. This is me opening myself up to you fucking other men and enjoying it. This is me wanting you to be seeing this as something I want you to do, not as something you do behind my back or in secret. It's open and honest. You understand what the thought of it does to me, how erotic it will be to hear or see it in action. But it changes nothing in terms of our relationship. We still love each other, we are still best friends, and that should permeate through everything we do. The trick I believe is to ensure all these other relationships are based purely on sex, with no emotional ties. They give you the pleasure I can not, and then you come home to cuddle and share the experience with me.

I love you, I adore you, and I want you to experience everything I cannot give you. I know this can work, and I implore you to consider it. Talk to your girlfriends if you need to, you know I like the idea of them knowing how tiny I am anyway. But seriously, take as much time as you need. But please let's do this, and I know once we have done it, you will never want to go back. You will love it, and so will I.

I love you so much, and I am just sorry I had to put this in a letter rather than saying in person. I hope you can forgive me for that, and I look forward to your response.

xxx



An Open Letter to My Lover



Copyright August 2001 by CFaulkner. All rights reserved.

Dearest Zack,

I just wanted to write you and tell you how fantastic last weekend was - I was definitely surprised by the way you'd planned everything, and renting a cottage at the beach for a weekend was a true stroke of genius. You know how much I adore the sea.

And you, of course. The combination of the two was . . . sizzling.

But it was more than just your famous spaghetti sauce and the quiet time on the screened porch listening to the waves as the sun set. It was the true intimacy of the time we spent together. You made it a wonderful safe haven, cocooning the two of us off from the rest of the world and making me feel like I could completely be myself and do or say anything to you without fear of rejection or censure.

We both know that my problem has never been in the "doing" . . . there's very little I wouldn't do to please you, very little that doesn't turn me on. But unlike 99.9% of the rest of the female population of the United States, my problem has always been in the "talking about it" area. In that, my love, the two of us take the opposite roles from what we're supposed to, gender-wise. I know that you would like nothing better than for me to roll over in the middle of the night some time, wake you out of a sound sleep, and spill my guts to you about life in general, and our relationship in particular. I've spent many a sleepless night with you in the course of the past few years, hashing and re-re-re-hashing exactly those things with you.

Don't hold your breath. That's not my style. I've always said that if I'm here, then I'm happy. You know my feelings on marriage. We consciously have no legal obligations to each other. I don't want to dissect why I'm here, I honestly don't want to hear why you think I'm with you, and, frankly, I don't much give a damn why you're in this relationship. It is what it is. Don't question things too closely or you might not like what you see. When I start looking longingly at the door, then you can worry.

It is a major compliment to you that, this weekend, surrounded by you and all of the creature comforts you provided, I, in essence, spilled my guts to you. I know you think that this should have happened long ago, but you should take heart that it happened at all. Saturday night, in that big king-sized bed, with all the windows open and the cool sea air washing over us, drying the sweat on our bodies after yet another bout of mindless pleasure, I lay between your legs. Your back was propped up against the headboard, cushioned by three or so pillows, and you maneuvered me so that I was leaning back against you, enveloped in your comforting presence, still throbbing from completion and so relaxed I lost my natural reserve about these situations.

You asked me if I was all right, as you always do. I don't know whether the question stems from the distinct differences in our sizes - although I'm no stick figure by any stretch of the imagination - or the fact that my tears after an intense orgasm still bother you, and I suppose the reason behind the question doesn't matter, anyway. It's a very gentlemanly thing to ask - although I'm always all right when I'm with you - and it makes me feel very cared for.

But this lovemaking session was different from the rest - in a "change-your-whole-relationship" way. This was the first time you've ever taken me over your lap and spanked me prior to pressing yourself inside me by inches. Oh, it was a playful spanking, and with my high pain tolerance (for spankings only) it didn't hurt much (although I can certainly see a lot of potential for that, considering your hand is the size of a platter and at least as hard as your head :)), but it did surprise the hell out of me, and there must've been no mistaking my considerable . . . interest.

You knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say, scolding me for getting sassy with you, telling me to watch my tone of voice when I speak to you, calling me a naughty girl who needs to spend more time over your lap getting her bottom blistered. Man, you must've been taking lessons, for crying out loud! Your voice had just the right "I'm disappointed in you" tone, and you had me wet well before your palm ever cracked down on my bottom! I've always thought, being a military officer, that you'd be a natural Dom. This is one situation where I've definitely been proven right!

You're used to giving orders and being obeyed. You're so serious sometimes, and I'm so giggly, especially when I'm tired, that I know I've gone a step too far. Or I've had a distinct potty mouth, although rarely. Hell, there have been multiple times in the past that you gave me "that stare" from under a drawn brow as you frowned down at me. That look itself was enough to send a jolt of fearful anticipation up my spine. But you would just say my name in warning, or haul me into your arms to kiss me out of my bad mood, or give me a "good talking to", when what I truly needed but never admitted was to be taken to our bedroom, have my pants and panties taken down - or my skirt flipped up - and be pulled over your hard thighs for a long, painful spanking to get me back in line. Or keep me in line.

The reason doesn't matter. The action does.

As I said that night, I don't know why I didn't tell you that I liked spanking. I guess it was being afraid of rejection, or being thought a freak. Your opinion of me matters to me. Not everyone likes what I like, and although we have been disgustingly compatible in the bedroom, spanking is not something I would just assume you would want to do. Hell, you're always so conscious of your size - which I appreciate although sometimes I think you go overboard; better overprotective than under, as far as I'm concerned - and whether or not you've hurt me accidentally during sex or when we wrestle sometimes . . . I guess you've noticed I don't do that much any more: I hate losing, and I would never want you to let me win, so I've given up on trying to physically subdue you. For now. ;)

Yes, I'm a total wimp about pain. You know that probably better than any person on Earth, having had to live through my sprained ankle and my gall bladder surgery. I don't do pain; it hurts me. Yes, I know this is a dichotomy. Deal with it. Spanking pain is just different, and I honestly have a fairly high tolerance, depending on the implement used.

I can see you reading this with your eyebrow raised. Your wimpy lover, who puts her back out and spends three weeks in bed moaning and groaning and making you dance attendance on her, has a high pain tolerance. Sure, right. Yes. But only in that very specific area.

Honestly, it is a pain I crave. But it's not just the pain by any means . . . I want the whole relationship culture that goes with it. The ritual aspects of that type of relationship appeal to me enormously, and I think what it offers is a sense of consistency, of safety. Action and consequence is missing from my life, but not if you're there with a paddle at the ready. Being scolded, spending time in the corner with my panties down and my hands on my head, lying over your lap, the spanking itself, the corner time afterwards (maybe), and the comfort and forgiveness afterwards. I'm a greedy cuss; I want the whole package.

I would love to know that I could look to you to guide me (I know, I know. How completely out of character for an opinionated, stubborn, "lead or get the hell out of the way" women's libber like me. Yup. I never said I was going to be logical, did I? Quite the contrary, as you know.). I cannot think of anything that would make me feel safer with you. Loads safer than any ring you could put on my finger or words you could say in front of a J.O.P. 

I don't want TPE. I don't want you to tell me when to breathe - unless I'm having an asthma attack - and totally take over my life 24/7.

If I could have anything I wanted, it would be us in a "domestic discipline" type of relationship, where we love and support each other exactly as we do now, where each of us works and contributes to the relationship financially, emotionally, and sexually. We're there for each other now, and I would expect that that would continue . . . But you would be in charge. If I did something that you didn't like (who me? Never!), like say . . . swearing. Or forgetting to give you the ATM slips until the end of the month . . . or being cranky and snotty (which we both know I never am!), then you would have the option of hauling me over your lap (or making me bend over the back of the loveseat, etc, etc, etc) and giving me a good spanking.

Now, deciding whether or not you're interested in this is a big decision for you. I'm already there. Waaaaaaaaaay there. But I have the easy part, being the brat that I am :). I can't help it, it just comes naturally to me, the way your dominance comes naturally to you. You role as disciplinarian is the responsible one, and boy, if I've ever met a person who defined "responsible", it's you. The question is, then, are you willing to assume that type of tremendous responsibility? And it is a responsibility. It's also the highest compliment I can give any man; to trust him enough that I would allow him to discipline me. Especially someone your size. If I trust you and I'm wrong, I could end up maimed, or worse.

But hear me now and believe me later, I have absolutely no doubts about you and your innate ability to succeed in this role. You are the most disgustingly honorable, forthright, upstanding citizen on the face of the planet, and if I have any concerns, they're about my abilities to rise to your standards. Especially if you make any rules about neatness. I'm sunk right there, slob that I am. I'd have to kiss sitting down comfortably goodbye for quite some time in that case.

Hmmmmmmmm. That brings something up. Yes, you'd be responsible for disciplining me. But I would be responsible for learning from that discipline. I don't want you to be envisioning decades of spanking me for the same things; I will certainly do my best to learn what you're taking the time to try and teach me. No, my potty mouth and speeding and appalling bookkeeping tendencies won't go away like magic after my first spanking. Or maybe even my fifth. But I will show progress, especially if you make the spankings memorable enough . . .

Back to the pain. Like credit, there is good pain and there is bad pain. Bad pain is back pain. Pure and simple. Ain't nothing remotely loving, caring, sexual, or even interesting about having to crawl to the bathroom on your hands and knees because you can't straighten up. Spanking - caning, hair brushing, paddling, strapping . . . you get the idea - however, is good pain. There's a reason for it, and it's an agreed upon reason, whether or not I agree. Get it? 

Well, I can't see you making stupid rules. It's not like my language couldn't stand to be a little more civilized, I suppose. And Lord knows, if I didn't work for the bank already, my account would have been closed for overdrafts long since, and at thirty bucks a pop, I could have practically paid for that new laptop I'm looking at, so there's room for improvement there, too.

And I know you love me, never more so than if you take the time and energy to correct me. I know it goes directly against your grain to hurt someone - trained warrior be damned - especially a woman. You certainly could hurt people very easily, but you consciously don't. I've seen you with Beth's baby. If ever there was a picture of a man melting, it was you when you held her in your arms. Your whole gruff, unapproachable, in-charge demeanor changed, and my heart swelled as I watched you rock her and hold her close, stroking that tiny head and letting her suck the tip of your pinky. I could never see you inflicting pain gratuitously.

Basically, I guess it comes down to the fact that I trust you. Face down, bare bottomed, hairbrush in your hand TRUST YOU. I trust you not to cause any permanent physical damage, but I trust you to cause a whole lot of temporary bruising, which you should expect since I'm so fair skinned. I trust you not to listen to my begging and pleading before or during a spanking, but to do what you think needs to be done. To take care of business . . . to take care of me in this way. I trust you not to hold back because my bottom is getting red and swollen, or because you've already spanked me once that day. I trust you to spank me hard enough to make me cry, then sob, until I have no tears left and you're still paddling. I trust you to discipline me through my moans to my screams, then through those until I have no voice left . . . if you feel that is the severity of the correction I need.

But I also trust you not to inflict a long hard paddling on me when one is not justified by my misbehavior. I trust you to generally adhere to the rituals that make this situation feel safe for me. I trust you to respond to whatever safeword we choose, not because I intend to cry wolf, but because it's a responsible thing to have, especially considering my asthma. But then I also expect you to be aware enough of me and my condition that I shouldn't have to use it unless something's going on with me that you couldn't see. I trust that you won't let your emotions get the better of you when you're truly angry at me and that when it's over, it's over, and you'll welcome me with open arms and give me the forgiveness and comfort that is the reason I submit to your discipline. I want to be good and I desperately want you to be proud of me. It hurts me worse on the inside than any spanking you could apply to my outside when you are disappointed in me.

So, I might not have run off at the mouth about this to you, but we both know I always write better than I speak, and these are things I felt needed to be addressed. You have a lot of serious thinking to do, but then, unlike me, that's what you do best :).

Regardless, and I do mean regardless, I remain 

Forever yours,

Lainie 



An Open Letter to My Readers



After some thought, I decided I needed to write a letter to you, the kind folks who read my work.

First, my sincere thanks for your [ mostly ] kind words and comments. It is a pleasure to write for you and I will continue to do so for quite some time.

I just feel that there are some things that should be / must be addressed and I am hoping that you people out there can be of some assistance, and perhaps I can reciprocate.

Okay, where to begin? How about at the beginning?

When I joined LITEROTICA in 2005, all I wanted to do was write again. I had written for years and years prior -- other subject matter as well -- but really hadn't written much in about 5 years. I had been on another site and slowly crept back into creativity, but only in small doses.

Through the encouragement of some on-line friends, I joined LIT and wrote a few stories. What a pleasant surprise when one of my early efforts, "Programmed for Love" met with very warm responses. Encouraged, I stepped up the pace and made it my goal to write 100 stories by my first year on LIT -- which I accomplished. I got some wonderful feedback, for the most part.

Enter 2006. I don't know why exactly -- but my output dropped to a trickle, for which I am sorry. Although my newer works are longer, the amount of stories dropped by 75%. Even still, I had some wonderful words from my kind readers -- including a very nice letter which my computer deleted -- telling me what they wanted, what they liked. Again, my thanks.

Now, here is the crux of the letter.

Due to illness and outside forces [ a slightly-crooked publisher ] I wrote less -- wayyy less. I became a bit sad and at times, it was an effort to be creative. I make no excuses though, some of it was pure laziness on my part. Those of you who read my work deserve better. I am sure some of you are expecting certain works to be finished and are a bit peeved with me that they have not been.

This year, I made another promise to myself -- which is also one to you. I am going to do better, I am going to write more. I plan to beat my output of 2006, hopefully by a wide margin. My semi-promise to myself is when I did start writing again, to try and average 1000 or more words a day. As of this, I am still around that number.

Okay readers, here is what I want from you. Please.

I would like to know exactly WHAT series you like most, WHAT you want finished soonest. I have one that will be done this year -- for sure -- as there are only two chapters to go on it.

However, I'd like some input from you. Either here or through E-Mail. What is your favorite of all my series? Any story you'd like a sequel to? Do you have any suggestions?

Suggestions will be weighed and if used, will be credited. I DO know how many of my stories will end, but the middle is sometimes wide open. You never know, some of you out there might just surprise me -- and yourselves.

If you have read my stuff and never commented, now is your chance. I make only one request. Please, be serious. I am asking for your help. If you comment negatively -- and even those will be read -- don't just say "I hate your stuff, it sucks Donkey Balls." WHY do you not like it? Any writer worth his socks is willing to improve. I am always ready to try a new approach.

Presently, I have a few series going -- amongst them "Aloha Lovers", "Ghost of A Chance" and "Virtue or Vice". I also have the "Heather" stories, which are a shared-universe type of story, with Heather, Bryan, Aunt Alexus, Vicki and others. Want more of those? How about the "Stiletto Club" series, of which I have another chapter nearly completed? I have a sequel to "Becoming Bree" in mind -- would you like to read that?

I will also be writing some one-shot stories, of course -- but I've been very fortunate that some of those have done well and readers have asked for sequels. Are the any characters in the one-shot tales that you'd like to see more of?

I plan to complete as many of my works as I am able, but I have a long road ahead. If you can give me some kind direction, I am sure I will get there.

I plan to leave this open for a few months and then, I will likely remove it from my postings. Please, if you like my work, I would greatly appreciate your input. Any time you can give me will be appreciated. Oh, if you want to remain anonymous, that will be fine as well.

Thanks a lot from 

 BrettJ

Somewhere in Chilly Ontario

January 2007 



An Open Letter



"Relax, relax," I replied," There are other thing things we can do, if you don't want to..." 

While I was saying these reassuring words to her, I was thinking to myself, Terri, your snatch, will stretch a mile, before it will tear an inch. 

As I sucked and nibbled on her nipples, your wife, was rolling her head form side to side moaning softly, panting, "ahhh, ahhh, Oh Meat, it's too big...mmm, mmm." While she stroked my dick, in her warm moist hand. 

I had all I could do, to keep from yanking off your wife's, shorts, and panties, and prying her legs apart, and rolling over on top of her, and shoving my cock all the way into her, and fucking her like a Wildman. 

Instead; I took my mouth off her tits, and tenderly kissed her on full soft lips. 

As I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, and flicked the tip of my tongue across her lower lip. I slowly slid my hand down under the front of her shorts, inside the waist band, of her little girl cotton panties, down over her mount of Venus, between her slightly spread thighs, and covered her warm moist womanhood. 

Your wife jumped when she felt my hand on her pussy and unconsciously began jerking her hips up and down against my hand, in the fucking motion.

Her pussy was soaked; her legs were quivering, as I ran my middle finger between her inner pussy lips. 

I covered your wife's mouth with mine again, and slid my tongue between her lips; as I slowly pushed my middle finger inside her tight little fun hole. 

Your horny wife sucked my tongue into her mouth, as she felt my thick finger going deep inside her. 

As my big finger went inside your wife's, snug little hole, she arched her hips, and nipped my tongue. Terri's pussy muscles innately contacted around my invading finger, gripping it tightly inside her, like she never wanted me, to take it out of her.

Your innocent virtuous virginal looking young wife was going crazy with lust, as she swirled her tongue around mine. Oh Man Terri was rapidly wildly lifting, and lowering her hips, as I finger fucked her unbelievably tight little tunnel of love. 

I sucked her tongue, into my mouth, as I curled my middle finger and rubbed it up and down over that hard little bumpy spot on the front wall of her obviously rarely used, extremely tight little fuck hole. 

When Terri's felt my finger tip roughly going up and down over her g-spot, she tightly gripped the bedcovers, in her hands, began twitching, as she arched her hips up and pushed her head back into my pillow. 

Then she came loudly screeching, "Ahhh, God, Ohhh Baby, Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh." Then she relaxed and collapsed as her warm cum came gushing out of her hole into the palm of my hand.

Your little wife, was lying beside me, panting and trembling as she gasped, for breath, mumbling, "Meat, what did you do to me? That was so freaking incredible, I never came that good before...in my life. "

Terri, rolled over, on her side facing me, and reached down, and grabbed my dick. Then started kissing me all over my face, licking and sucking on my earlobe, and sticking her tongue into my ear, as she sighed, gratefully, passionately, into my ear, "Oh God Meat, Thank You, thank you, that was sooo freaking good."

I knew I could have rolled your wife over on her back, and she would have spread her legs wide for me, and let me fuck her...

But I just held her and gently kissed her, as I gave her a few minutes, to catch her breath. 

Then I stood up, slipped off my rode, exposing my hard muscular, manly body and dick to her, for the first time. 

Your wife had this dreamy blissful, after orgasm, look on her face. Her pretty big sparkling bright blue eyes, seemed to get wider, as she admired my hard body, and my large swollen throbbing cock.

Your wife didn't even try to resist, as I put my hand under the waist band of her shorts. She just arched her hips up, so I could easily peel them down, over her hips, and legs until I took them off. 

Christ buddy, she was an awesome looking sight laying there. Her pretty freckle covered face had some droplets of sweat on her forehead. Your wife's cheeks, face, shoulders, and chest were flushed bright red. 

She was still breathing heavily and her chest was heaving up and down. Her beautiful perfect haft dollar sized, pink nipples were still swollen hard from her intense orgasm. 

Man she was a vision of loveliness, laying there in her little girl, pink cotton panties, with the soaked crotch. Her lovely long legs were slightly parted, waiting for me to... 

Your Wife, was starring at my cock with a look of intense desire in her eyes, as she said," Meat, I want you, to put it in me, but your thing is so big, it might hurt me... maybe I should just, you know play with it or" she paused for a moment and finally said, "kiss it!"

I smiled down at her as I said," Don't worry about it! I won't hurt you. "

While I was saying that, I was thinking to myself, Christ Buddy, don't tell me you've never gone down on this beautiful sexy thing!

Then I grinned and raised my eye brows, as I went on to say to your wife, "Beside that, I'm no where near ready to that yet!"

I was still grinning mischievously at your wife, as I licked my lips and said," There's something else I want to do to you first." 

While I was telling your wife this, I was thinking to myself, when I get finish with you Terri, you're going to beg me, to shove cock into you.

Terri shyly nodded her head up and down as she nervously said, "Okay."

I got back on the end of the bed between her legs and reached up and put my finger tips under the waist band of her pretty innocent little girl pink cotton panties. 

Your wife arched her hips up again, for me, as I peeled them down over hips, down her legs, until I finally pulled them off her feet and dropped them next to her shorts. 

Terri was laying there; nervously looking up at me, like she was wondering, what I was going to do to her next! 

I put my hands under her knees, and spread her legs apart, as I pushed her knees up to her shoulders. 

Then I started kissing the insides of your hot young wife's thighs. Terri quickly began panting and moaning again, "Ohhh Good God, Ohhh, God Honey, I love that. Meat my... husbands never... done this to me!"

When I finally started gently kissing your wife's sweet musty smelling vagina, and began tenderly licking small figure eights around her enlarged pink clit. 

She exploded again, almost immediately; this time she drenched my face, in another salty tasting, intense female, cum squirting orgasm. 

As I crawled up over your wife, she was trembling and her eyes were rolled back into her head, and she was breathing heavily through her open mouth, trying to catch her breath. 

I kissed on the fore head as I whispered softly," Terri, I want you, to do me a favor, hold my cock, in your hand, and rub it up and down over your pussy."

She did as I asked, without hesitation; she wrapped her warm moist trembling hand around my dick, and gripped it tightly around the shaft and rubbed the head of my cock, up and down over her pussy. 

While she was doing this, your wife instinctively, began lifting herself up, and rubbing her warm wet inviting pussy, against the head of my cock. 

Buddy, I knew, she wanted me, in her. 

I though to myself, just a little more coaxing and I'll be, all the way into your wife's tight little box.

I nipped her ear lobe, as I lightly blew my warm breath into her ear, and whispered," Terri, does that feel good?" 

She sighed passionately, through her panting breath, "Yesss, Ahhh, ahhh, ohhh God yesss, yes. "

As I licked her inner ear, I said softly," Honey, rub the head of my cock back and forth over your clit." 

She didn't answer, she just rubbed my hard cock head back and forth and from side to side over her clit, causing her to squirm around under me, trying to get herself off, or maybe she was, unconsciously trying to get my cock into her.

"Honey, please rub my penis between your pussy lips and across your opening." 

As I asked her to do that; I carefully kissed and gently sucked on that little hot spot between her neck and shoulders again.

Without thinking your wife pushed my the end of my cock between her warm wet pussy lips until the head of my dick was barely touching her snug little opening. 

I lightly kissed her open mouth, and slid the tip of my tongue between her lips. 

When your wife's felt my tongue going between her lips, she put one arm around neck, and arched her back up, as she tightly held my cock, in her other hand, against her waiting warm wet hole.

I guessed, she still trying to be faithful to you Buddy, and keep me out of her. No matter how bad she wanted it.

As our tongues played in each others mouths, I pushed my hips downward against her, pressing the head of my cock, firmly against her slippery wet opening.

Oh Man, your wife instinctively began lifting her hips up, as felt the end of my cock pushing against her sung little opening. 

I pulled my lips off hers, and asked your wife between our parted lips, in my husky manly voice, "Terri, tell me, what you want me, to do to you?"

Terri's was rolling her head from side to side moaning, "Mmm, mmm, mmm, Oh God. I don't know... I shouldn't."As she held my cock in her hand, against her tight warm wet opening.

I pressed my hips just a little further forward, nudging the end of my manhood harder against the opening, of her love cannel. 

I kissed her eyelids, as I whispered," Terri, tell me what you want?"

Your wife gasped, "Oh God Meat, Please I want you to", as she let go my dick, and put her other arm around neck, nodding her head up and down, in the yes motion. 

I pushed the head my cock just a fraction of an inch into her, as I passionately whispered softly in my husky manly passionate voice, "Tell me, what you want?"

Your wife clawed my back as she pleaded, "Please be gentle...please, please, its sooo big." 

"Terri, tell me what you, want me, to do you?" I teased,

Your wife, muttered softly, "Fuck me, please fuck me, but be gentle."

Man, your wife's was so nice and tight, I though I was going into a virgin. Damn man the inside of your wife's pussy was so, warm, wet and velvety smooth. I though I was inside a warm moist satin vice.

Needless to say it was obvious, that your wife never had a cock this big inside her before!

Because she continually gasped, " Aaaaaah," as I tenderly pushed my dick all the way into her, spreading her open and filling her up with my man's sized cock, for the first time.

Your wife, closed her eyes, arched her hips, took her arms, from around my neck, and dropped them down by her sides and, tightly gripped the bedcovers in her hands, as she lifted her hips and gave herself to me. 

I watched her pretty face contorting in pleasure,as she rolled her head from side to side. As I gently pushed my hard swollen male member, deeper and deeper into her, spreading her open and filling her up with my man meat.

Your wife laid there under me breathing heavily, when I finally all the way into her, sighing, "Ohhh Good God Meat, it's sooo freaking big." 

I kissed her tenderly, as I asked between our parted lips, "Terri, tell me, how does it feel inside you?"

She moaned, "Oh God, Oh Good God Honey, it feels so good, I don't ever want you to take it out of me."

I had to hold still inside her, for a few minutes, to savor the feelings of being one with your lovely wife. I also wanted to let her, get used to having my man sized dick inside her, for the first time. 

We lay there playing with tongues in each others mouths, not moving, for a few minutes. Then your wife began instinctively lifting herself up against me.

As I felt her beginning to move under me, I began gently riding her, slowly pulling out her and gently pushing back into her. 

As she got used me, being inside her, she began moaning softly, "Meat do it, really do it, to me." 

I could tell she was going insane with desire, as she sucked in her breath and sighed passionately in her soft low panting voice," Oh Meat, Please, please, fuck me harder."

I loved hearing your wife say those words of lust to me. 

I kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose, and teasing asked her, "Tell me, what do you, want me, to do, to you now?"

She sighed, "Please Meat, you know, what I want, do it to me faster and harder now."

I did as she asked, and began pumping into her a little faster and harder. As I rode her I could feel your wife's cunt starting to loosen up, as her pussy, began getting wetter and wetter.

Damn Buddy, as I fucked your wife, I could feel her creamy white cunt juices coating my long hard thick cock.

Oh Pal, my cock felt so good inside your wife's sung warm wet pussy, it felt like it belonged in her. I couldn't help myself, even if I wanted too. 

I felt my balls quickly beginning to fill up and I started getting that wonderful warm tingly feeling going through my entire body. 

I knew I was going to cum any second, and I wasn't going to able to pull my dick out of your wife, when I did. 

Oh Man, I hope you don't mind! 

But I wanted to make your wife happy and to cum again, with my big hard dick deep inside her. 

I knew if I made her have a vaginal orgasm. She would be mine, to fuck over, and over again, any time I wanted her too. 

Then your wife suddenly, began franticly bucking her hips up and down, under me, mumbling, "ahhh, ahhh, ahhh, I'm coming...Oh God Meat, I never came like this before."

Oh Christ Buddy, that's all I needed to hear. 

Then your wife's cunt began contacting and releasing around my hard throbbing cock, just as my dick, swelled up bigger inside her, and I starting erupting, spurting my thick sperm, deep inside her tight, clinging, warm, soaking wet cunt.

I couldn't help myself, and I shoot gob after gob of warm creamy white jizz deep inside, your wife's convulsing twat, as she jerked her hips up, and held them up, as her body vibranted in orgasm, willingly taking my hot load of cum way up inside herself. 

I didn't think either one of us was ever going to stop coming. When I finally stopped ejaculating inside her; I collapsed on top of her panting trying to get my breath back. 

I finally rolled over onto my back pulling your warm sweaty wife over on top of me, with my still erect twitching dick deep inside her tight warm wet sperm filled snatch.

Your wife lay on top of me, breathing heavily, panting into my ear, "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck that was awesome. Oh Meat, I never knew, it could be this good! "

I kissed her cheek, as I lightly raked my fingernails up and down her spine, and scratched her tail bone. Your sexually satisfied grateful wife instantly started responding, and slowly started fucking me again! 

I couldn't believe what sexual treasure she is. Christ man, I know you can't you believe this? But your wife came again! 

We laid there together, for a couple of hours, talking and really getting to know each other. 

Man your wife is absolutely awesome. Fair warning Buddy, I'm going to take her away for from you, if I can. 

Then we took a shower together; as she got dressed, I told she was more then welcome to come back over anytime she wanted too. 

She winked and blew me a kiss, with a strange look in her eyes, as she replied with a big smile on her face, "I think you'll be seeing a lot of me." 

Then she left, But I knew she'd be back.



The End   
Well folks I hope you all enjoyed reading my story. 

Now dear readers, I want you all to make my day, and please take the time to give me five stars and leave me a nice comment and tell me what you liked or didn't like about my story. 

However, that's besides that pesky grammar, punctuation, and spelling stuff. I know I stink at it, so you don't have to tell me about it, I already know it. 

However, I do proof read my stories repeatedly, trying to find as many of my spelling, and the wrong word mistakes, as I possibly can and correct them. 

I also use the tools on my Microsoft Word Processor trying to eliminate as many of my grammar mistakes as I possible can without changing what I'm trying to say.

Thank you again for reading my Story

BigCarl796
The Dirty Old Man