A Letter to Jin

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Moving in with my father in law causes problems.
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Following the death of my husband, I moved in with his father, my father-in-law. My doing this caused a problem with my best friend. This letter to her was my overture at "mending fences".

Dear Jin,

Let me start this off by saying that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I haven't been a very good friend over the last couple of years. I wanted you to know that even though we've fallen out of touch, I have missed our friendship very much and thought of you often. Things changed so quickly after Jonathan died. I wanted to tell you about Mitch, my new happiness, my guilt, everything, but I couldn't bring myself to talk to you about it or with anyone else for that matter. After all this time, I felt I owed you an explanation, and so I'm writing this letter. I don't mean to offend you, but some parts of this letter are explicit, but that's only because I want you to understand how it was between Mitch and me.

Jonathan and I were married for only a short time, before he was killed during his last Middle East deployment. I was only nineteen at the time, and I felt lost, my life seemed to turn upside down and I fell into a very scary depression that lasted for a while. I thank God that Jonathan's father Mitch saw what was happening, intervened and helped me claw my way out of that dark tunnel.

I know how you felt about Mitch. I grew tired of you telling me repeatedly that Mitch was not good for me, that he had had ulterior motives ever since Jonathan and I started sharing the house with him. I was angry with you for saying those things, and felt you were being unfair and judgmental. Jonathan was Mitch's only child and Mitch loved him very much, and he loved me as a father would, because I also loved his son. Despite how you felt or what you said, Mitch was only concerned with my wellbeing. We grew closer each day and I was grateful to Mitch for allowing me to stay there with him after Jonathan's death. I had nowhere else to go. I'm sorry if it seemed my anger was directed toward you, but I just felt you were constantly berating him, and questioning his motives. I didn't believe then or now that Mitch wanted anything other than to look after me, and to help me solely because I had been Jonathan's wife.

During that first year or so, Mitch and I weren't living together the way you thought, he was in the main house and I in the guesthouse. We were not having sex and I was upset with you for insisting we were. Other than a kiss on the cheek or a fatherly kiss on the forehead, there was no sexual contact between us. In fact, when we did kiss it was months after I moved onto the estate and it was an innocently sweet kiss on the lips after dinner one night.

I think our relationship began to change when Mitch became ill. Almost a year to the day of Jonathan's death, Mitch was diagnosed with a rare illness and began chemotherapy treatment. Around this time, I moved back into the main house so I could be near if he needed me.

After his diagnosis, I would go with Mitch to his regular doctor appointments and chemo treatments. It was heartbreaking to see the physical and emotional toll these treatments were taking on him. Sometimes we would come home, and he'd be so exhausted and nauseous he couldn't make it upstairs to bed and would stretch out on the sofa and sleep. If he felt up to it, I'd bring him a cold drink, and sit on the sofa with him, quietly talking. Occasionally I'd have him rest his head in my lap and close his eyes as I massaged his temples.

One afternoon, he had a particularly difficult session and was miserable. When we got home, he took his meds and I helped him undress so he could be a bit more comfortable. Mitch lay down on the sofa, I covered him with an afghan and he quickly dozed off. Later I came into the den to check on him and as usual, I brought him a cold drink and had him put his head in my lap. As I massaged his temples, he moaned occasionally, but said he was starting to feel better. I don't know how it happened or why, but after about fifteen minutes Mitch snuggled in closer to me, raised my t-shirt up and began almost rooting for my breast, like a baby would. I was momentarily startled and unsure what to do. I sat there confused as he kissed my breasts and licked my nipples until they were hard and extended.

Jin, I'm ashamed to say I didn't pull away from him.

I was fascinated by what he was doing and how it was making me feel (it had been a long time). Whenever he pulled his mouth away, I could see my areolas had taken on a darker shade of pink and my nipples were almost a beige/brown color and at least 3/8 of an inch long. Mitch, for lack of a better word latched onto my long, sensitive nipple and began to suck. Of course there was no milk (I've never been pregnant), but I noticed as he continued to suck my tit, his body relaxed, he whimpered very softly and eventually drifting off to sleep again, my tit nestled securely in his warm, moist mouth. It was as if my tit was a kind of pacifier for him.

Oh my god, Jin, do you think it could have been the meds that made him do that?

In an unanticipated way his taking my tit became an after treatment ritual. It calmed him, made him feel a little better, helped him fall asleep and we both grew to enjoy the closeness. Jin, I want you to understand that my feelings for Mitch, and I believe his for me, in the beginning weren't sexual, but an expression of our closeness and desire to be there for the other person, to comfort and provide an emotional safe haven.

Mitchell went into a remission and stopped the chemo after six months of therapy. Some days were definitely better than others were, and on those difficult days, he would come to my bed at night, take my tit and fall into a fitful sleep with me holding him. It was innocent like that for a while. Then one night I was awakened with Mitch spooning behind me gently thrusting himself between my thighs . . . Jin, he was sound asleep!

As time passed, Mitch began to regain his strength, slowly becoming his old self. He still enjoyed suckling my tits and I let him, but one night something happened that changed everything between us. We were in his bed, talking when he rolled toward me to suck my tit and his obvious erection pressed against my thigh. I froze, and Mitch quickly got up, wrapped himself in a sheet and began pacing back and forth across the room, apologizing.

He was embarrassed by what had happened and wanted to assure me that he hadn't meant for it to happen when he was with me. He said his sex drive was returning and he had started having erections again and needed to masturbate regularly for relief. He said over the time I had been there with him, he had developed very unfatherly feelings for me, and had been struggling with those feelings for several months. He was hesitant to say anything about this to me because he didn't feel he could stand it if I rejected him or worse yet decided to move.

I sat on the bed in stunned surprise and looked at him in silence before finally getting up and walking downstairs to the den for a drink (a strong drink). Mitch followed me downstairs and coming into the den sat down next to me. He took my hand and kissed it saying how sorry he was this had happened and that it wouldn't happen again. I told him it was all right and not to worry about it. After all, it was probably a good sign that his body was getting back to normal. I also told him that he didn't need to be concerned that I would leave, because I had no plans to do anything like that unless he wanted me to leave.

I finished my drink, and leaning toward him, kissed him full on the mouth in a very undaughterly way, turned and went upstairs to bed.

Mitch left the next morning, saying he needed to get away for a few days to think. He packed his duffle bag and said he would be at his cabin at Clearlake and should be back by Friday. Mitchell had always been nearby, this was the first time I had actually been alone in the house since Jonathan's death. My excitement grew with the anticipation of his coming home, and with what I wanted to tell him. When Friday morning arrived I was up early cleaning, getting grocery for a special dinner I had planned for him, shopping for his favorite wine. Mitch wasn't home, and hadn't called by ten o'clock that night. I went to bed angry, disappointed and cried myself to sleep.

A noise in the room startled me awake and I lay there silent as my eyes drowsily scanned the darkness. Just as I was about to close my eyes I sensed a movement across the room. When the figure moved toward the bed I screamed and just as quickly, he was on me, his hand covering my mouth him telling me to stop screaming. I looked up and saw it was Mitch, and broke into tears of relief.

Jin, please forgive me for my bluntness, but when Mitch finally uncovered my mouth, he didn't say anything, but began taking his clothes off. When he was naked, he stood there in all his maleness, his long, thick member hanging between his legs. He got into bed with me kissing me long and hard. He fondled my breasts before lowering his mouth to them and gently teased and licked them until my nipples were hard and achy. Mitch stretched out next to me and suckled my tits for a long time. I became aware of his hand slowly caressing my stomach, working its way to my core. When he found what he wanted, he played with me until I actually moaned out loud, and my hips began to hump against his hand. I swear Jin, I couldn't help it.

He rolled on top of me and pulled himself up so he could look into my eyes and said we'd waited long enough and that it was time. I told him yes, it was time and I opened my legs for him. He lowered his body between my legs and pressed himself inside me. I was surprised that it hurt a little, but considering I hadn't had sex in almost two years, I guess a little discomfort was to be expected. It was wonderful, but quick, we had both denied ourselves for a long time, and we spent the next morning making up for lost time.

I think in the beginning we both felt terribly guilt about the feelings that were evolving between us and we were too concerned with how other people would react to our being together. We spent a lot of time denying our own feelings. I loved Jonathan and I grew to love Mitch, not only as my father-in-law, but more importantly as a man. It was Mitch, who urged me to write this letter. He said if I was the kind of friend I always claimed to be, we needed to talk and figure out a way for us to forgive each other for hurtful things we might have said during a difficult time in the past.

Mitch is a wonderful man and I would so love you to get to know him.

Jin, I've missed you more than I can say. Please call me and let's set a date and time when we can talk in person.

Love

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chytownchytownover 8 years ago
Thanks***

For sharing is this the end??

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