September 8, 2014
I started to write this letter several times and stopped each time, frustrated that I was not able to clearly articulate how your note affected me.
I have noticed you, of course; it’s difficult not to heed a gentleman of your polished and refined appearance. When we happened to stand near each other at the tedious event the other night, I caught you watching me but when I smiled at you, you simply nodded politely and turned away. I must admit, I was disappointed at what I perceived to be aloofness on your part. Now I understand. You aren’t at all like the others. I grow weary of the overt and crude sexual advances by these cavemen in suits or the double entendres they seem to assume I am too unintelligent to understand. If someone wants me, how refreshing to be told in such an elegant and direct manner.
I watched you all night, socializing with others and was titillated by your smile and your confidence. Your name was indeed on my lips, later in the evening as I lay in my warm, soapy tub, relaxing with a glass of wine and replaying that moment when our eyes met for the first time that evening and I saw the raw desire in your eyes before you nodded and turned away. I wonder what it would be like to have someone like you, someone with such arduous lust.
I closed my eyes and imagined you walking into my bathroom as I lay in the tub, kneeling next to me and kissing me gently. My hand slid into the water and found my pussy as I imagined you doing the same, expertly sliding a finger into my tight tunnel, gently awakening my senses, knowing my body instinctively. My hips would move in tempo with your thrusts as my clit would surely swell and harden immediately against your touch. You scoop me out of the water and carry me to bed, our wet bodies becoming one, sliding against each other, my moist limbs wrapped tightly around you.
I imagined what your glorious cock would feel like inside of me, long and patient strokes deep inside my sweet wetness, as I squeeze my walls around it, coaxing every last drop of your cum to fill me. I rubbed my clit harder as I imagined you grasping my ass and lifting my hips off the bed, kneeling and plunging your shaft vigorously inside me, pausing only to teasingly rub the swollen head against my throbbing clit, inflicting that delicious torture on me again and again.
I must admit it took mere minutes for me to summon a wondrous orgasm which rocked my body violently, causing my bathwater to splash everywhere. Never have I created such waves in my tub alone. But I wasn’t really alone, was I? My thoughts of you were so intense, I felt I could almost conjure your physical being and finally know the pleasure of having you.
Regretfully, I must remind you that I am in a committed relationship. I do admit it does lack the fire that I crave and that I have been missing for so many years. I feel almost jaded at this point in my life, so accustomed to a lifeless and dispassionate marriage, that I might have built a stronghold around my emotions, rather than to have to admit how much I long for true and pure romance.
I am filled with guilt just writing this letter and admitting my feelings for you. A part of me wishes to simply thank you for the immense compliment and ask you to respect my relationship. Another part of me, the more audacious side of me, wants to beg you to plant your flag in the fortress that is my heart and claim me as your own.