A Letter to her Lover

Copyright 1997, Screamer

All Rights Reserved

My dearest passionate lover,

Was it only last night that we were together? Sitting here today, I am weary and worn out, my body tired, my legs stiff, my heart still pounding it’s mysterious, wanton beat. As I sit here at my desk, trying to concentrate on my work, I find my mind wandering, my attention span short, my eyes bleary with fatigue. I cannot concentrate on anything, but your caress, your teeth grazing my pale tender skin, your whisper in my ear.

The way last night started, I would have sworn we’d have spent the entire night, with your hard cock pounding inside me, our sweat mingling together on our bellies, our lips locked together, as much for silence as for the value and sensuousness of the kiss itself. But that isn’t how it was, was it, my love? No. It may have began that way, but it took a turn for the perverse somewhere along the line, although I can’t determine what it was that turned it. Can you?

It started normally. We went to dinner, we took a ride. We returned to your home and had a drink before the dance between us began. You kissed me long and sweetly, your tongue pushing into my mouth, your teeth nibbling away at my lower lip. Your hand on my cheek, pushing my head to and fro, into any position you wished it to be, to gain access to any part of my mouth you wanted to explore. It excites me to follow your lead, my passionate lover, it always has, and it always will. The kisses went on and on, neither hurried nor slowed, seemingly flowing together like rain on a warm summer day.

When I felt about to burst, needing to touch you, needing to feel your hot skin under my fingertips, you sensed it. I don’t know how, but you knew, you just knew. And you rose from your seat on the couch next to me. You stripped off your shirt, and reached out your hands. I grasped them pulling myself up off the couch, pressing my body into yours, my hands on your back, your already sweaty skin beneath my probing fingertips. You leaned your head back, and I would have sworn you laughed, but I know you did not. You just leaned down and grasped my chin, pulling my lips to yours for yet another ravishing, another deep soul-fulfilling kiss.

Before I knew it, my own shirt was off, my bra unhooked, and sliding down off my arms, as if on it’s own. Had I not opened my eyes, and saw your strong hands grasping the straps, I’d have sworn it were black magic. In another blurry moment, I found myself naked before you, held out at arms length, your eyes devouring the woman who stood before you - your ardent lover, your impassioned partner, your flushed and burning woman.

I was panting so brutally - I remember each breath, the way they raggedly worked their way up from my lungs, pushing my breasts out, their hard tips pointed up and out, as if pointing at you, showing me what they wanted. My eyes locked onto yours - green on green, emerald against hazel, neither of us able to blink, unwilling to unlock that gaze.

You took my hand, and led me down the hallway, your belt now undone, but your pants still on. You pushed me unceremoniously into bedroom, slamming the door behind you as you following me into the dark, comfortable room. Your hand now gripped my upper arm as you stood behind me, pressing your body into me, grinding your own hips against me. I felt my ass push back into you, meeting you, our breath so loud it echoed in the darkness.

You spun me around so quickly; it frightened me, but your hands on my shoulders, pushing me to my knees before you. My cunt throbbed wildly at the thought of your cock in my mouth. You pushed my cheek into your denim covered crotch, but you still did not speak.

"Take it out." You said, finally, and relieved, I pulled back, reached up and unbuttoned your jeans. I pulled them down and off, and inhaled deeply, loving the smell of your cock, the scent of your very manhood before me.

"Suck it." Your lack of tenderness now, lack of verbosity actually fueled my excitement. I thought quietly about it, as I took your cock into my mouth and decided that although I may not like it all the time, I certainly liked it then!

You became so hard so fast! And then you pulled away! I was taken aback by the quickness of the act, the way you pulled your cock from my mouth, and I gasped, unwilling to give up the taste, the feel of you between my lips just yet. Before I could think, you pulled me to my feet and pushed me onto the bed on my back, my head up on the pile of pillows at the head of it.

"Put your hand in your cunt." I lay there, shocked, but even in the dim light in the room, coming from the clock radio I could see the seriousness in your eyes. My fingers quickly delved into my slit, parting my wet, hungry lips.

I felt you climb up on the bed, kneeling over my hips. Your cock was in your own hand, and your thigh trapped my hand between my legs.

"Play with your clit. Cum when I do. Cum all over your hand while I cum all over you!"

You were stroking your cock. I could see it. And it excited me! I never thought for a minute that watching a man jerk himself off would fire me up, but it did! Your eyes locked on mine again, as you felt my hand move, my fingers finding my clit, rubbing it in little circles, getting hotter and hotter and hotter.

My hips started to push up against your legs. I knew you felt it. I knew you heard every whimper that escaped my parted lips, and your eyes watched my face intently as I kept my gaze zooming back and forth between your quickly moving hand on your cock, and your vivid green eyes. I couldn’t silence myself, didn’t want to, and I began pounding my own cunt harder and harder, panting, watching, thrusting upwards, begging you to hurry, I needed to cum!

You were in no hurry, but I could see the idea of shooting your cum all over me was pushing you to the limits of your resolve. Your hand flew over the length of your erection now, your grip tight, your breath almost as panting as mine. You never took your eyes from my face.

"Please…." I whimpered finally, knowing I would be unable to handle the pressure on my hard clit much longer.

I heard the moans begin, deep in your throat - the moan that signals to me that you’re ready to cum. I pushed my clit hard again - faster.

And then you came. Your howl echoed around the room, your eyes piercing down on me, watching the cum shoot from the end of your cock all over my pale, sweaty skin, watching it land on my throat, my shoulders, my full, proud breasts. You continued to pump it wickedly, until you had leaned up and wiped the last clinging drop of it against my panting lips, my own orgasm having exploded with yours.

We stayed that way, until we’d both regained our fevered breath. You slowly climbed off of me, and lay beside me, taking my hand from my cunt, and grasping it tightly. I rolled slightly toward you, your cum still clinging to my skin, and propped myself up on one elbow.

"That was…"

"Yea…" you answered.

And you laughed, and pulled me toward you, hugging me, kissing me, and burying your hands in my hair. We showered, and slept. I shan’t soon forget this evening, my love.

Only… next time? Can you kneel between my legs and watch me fuck myself for you? And then, shoot all over my cunt?

Your Impassioned Lover.

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