tagLetters & TranscriptsAn Unsent Letter

An Unsent Letter

bymarleywasone©

Do you wonder why I am writing this letter to you? I am wondering that myself. Maybe it is because you have stepped back into my life. Because I have been thinking about you ever since you came over last Friday night. Maybe I need to write this letter, for my own sake, to express what I am thinking, what I am feeling.

To try to make sense of it all. It is Sunday and I sit here thinking of you. As it seems every Sunday these days, I am bored. How can I be bored when I have so much to do? How can I be bored when I can think of you? I have come to hate Sundays, you know. I have lived alone for a long time and I find myself more and more lonely. I know what you are thinking, it is my choice, and I do not have to live alone.

You are right, of course. I have a friend that I enjoy, but she is so far away. She lives in a different country. Even though I talk to her every day on the telephone, I still feel empty, alone. I am tired of being alone, but that is another story. From what I understand, you also have a friend. Is he someone you can see whenever you want, someone you can sleep with and enjoy whenever you desire? Do you make love with him often? Is he a good lover? But I digress.

I awoke this morning thinking of you, my body all a fire, my desire for you so hard, so big. My penis was engorged and I stroked it while thinking about you. I wanted you so bad. I wanted to be inside of you and it was all I could think about.

Did I cum? No. I usually enjoy masturbating but it did not feel right this morning. Ever since you came here the other night I dream of your touch, I dream of your kisses as though you were here with me at this moment. I dream of your soft sensuous body next to mine, the feel of your nakedness, the incredible longing to caress you, to explore your body with my hands, my lips and my tongue. Masturbating is a let down, nothing compared to being with you.

As I recall what happened the other night I cannot help but to become aroused. The thought of you makes me hard, filled with desire. I thought I heard something as I lay in bed that Friday night, reading. I thought I heard a car in the driveway, a door close, but when I looked out the window, I could see nothing.

Marley, my early warning system, did not bark. I think poor Marley is going deaf, he should have known you were in the house even if I didn't. You let yourself in with your key. I am happy you have a key to my house; I just wish you used it to visit me more often. I find myself wishing you would unlock the door and come up to my bedroom. Sometimes I leave the door open all night, hoping you will come by, slip naked in my bed, make love with me.

These past few days I have thought of you continuously, and though I have tried to put you out of my mind, because you said it was all a mistake and you were sorry it happened, my desire for you does not fade, only grows deeper, more intense with each passing day. I guess I should be angry with you for arousing these desires in me after all this time. But to be honest, the desire has always been there, it has never gone away.

I have desired you for all these past thirty years. This may surprise you, but there have been many times when I was with other women and it was you I imagined I was with. I imagined it was your lips I was kissing, your breasts I was caressing, your pussy I was licking, you I was inside of. Can you imagine what this was like? Having sex with another woman and imagining it was you? I had to be so careful I did not moan your name. Cry out my desire for you when I was in the middle of cumming. How would I explain that?

Marley started barking and I looked up to see you standing there smiling at me. You had an impish smile on your face, a mischievous sexy smile. I was not startled but surprised to see you. You walked over to the opposite side of my bed. You looked at me and waited for me to put down my book. You lie down on the bed in your jeans and blouse, rolled over next to me and put your arm on my body.

"Are you surprised to see me?"

"Sort of. I guess I did not expect you to show up like this, though I am happy you did. What brings you here?"

"I tried calling but you did not answer, so I drove by. I saw a light on and thought why not. My friend is out of town. He always wants to know why I wear jeans and not shorts. He says I should show off my legs. What do you think? Do you think I have nice legs?"

You hold your leg up for me to see. I have always thought you have great legs. I have always thought you have a great body. Your body still drives me crazy, do you know this?

After all these years, what has it been 33 years since that first night, the thought of you naked makes me hard. I still remember that first night. I wrote a story about it. Do you remember? "A Lady in Red," the story I let you read.

You know the one about our first time together. You have never told me what you thought of that story. Did you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it? I just read it again and those feelings are stirring in me.

I published that story on an Internet site, for the entire world to read. I wanted to share that pleasure with every one. The very thought of it still arouses me, makes me hard. I often masturbate to the thought of that first night with you. Don't worry. No one will know it was us. You only know it was about us because I told you, because I let you read it. Did it give you pleasure to read these words? Does it give you pleasure to know I still think of our first night together? That it still turns me on.

The other night was like that first time all over again. What were you thinking? What did you expect from me? Don't you know how turned on I am by you? How much you arouse me? But I can't really blame you, can I? How would you know it is you I always think about whenever I wish to become aroused? My desire for you was so intense, so incredible, that I could not control myself. How long did I last, one second or one stroke? How can I desire someone so much as I desire you?

How can I long to be with someone as much as I long to be with you? How can I go to sleep each night and awake each morning imagining the feel, the taste, the smell of you? How can you arouse such passions in me when I have not touched you or kissed you or been inside of you but once in all these years and then for only a moment?

"You have great legs. A great body."

You look at me and smile. You pull the covers back, look at my penis, touch it, pull on it, lift it up, let it fall back down. You get up off the bed.

"I'll be right back."

You walk down stairs, or so I think, but you only go to the landing and get undressed. How do I know? Marley sits at the top of the stairs and looks at you. You come back up, stick you head around the doorframe and say. "Turn off the light."

I turn off the light and you come to my bed. You are naked and I look at you. The moon is shining in the window and I can see you. I look at your breasts. They look full and delectable. I cannot wait to touch them. You are so beautiful. I can feel the excitement rising in me as you climb in the bed next to me. I want you to stay on top the sheets, in the moon light so I can look at your nakedness, but you crawl under the sheet. I am filled with instant desire to be inside of you. As you lay down next to me, I feel your warm soft body and I feel the pleasure rising inside of me. I touch you as you lay next to me. My arm is around you and I feel as if it was only yesterday, the last time I made love with you. Has it really been that long? How can I go such a long time without the pleasure of your body?

"Rub my back."

You roll over on your stomach and I straddle your legs. I begin to rub your back. I enjoy the soft feel of you skin beneath my fingers. As I slide forward massaging up your back, kneading your muscles, my penis drops between your legs, rubbing across your ass. You sigh and spread your legs a little, to better feel me. You have a beautiful ass do you know this? I love the feel of it under my hands. I have an intense desire to kiss you there, to lick you with my tongue, to explore the treasures waiting there for me, but I control myself and continue to rub your back, savoring the pleasure of your body. You moan with delight, opening your legs still further to feel my hardening penis rub against you. It gives me pleasure to know I am giving you pleasure.

How can you fill me with such an intense desire when I have only know your lips, your tongue, your hands upon my body but once in all these years? How can a desire be so overwhelming, so all consuming for a woman who says she wants nothing to do with me? Do you really want nothing to do with me? Do you know you said that? You have started a fire in me that will not die, a passion that will not subside, a pleasure that occupies my mind every moment of time.

I woke up this morning and all I could think of was you and my desire to be with you. What do you do to me? Do you torment me this very on purpose? Do you even know how much you arouse me? Isn't this why you really came over the other day? Just to turn me on and drive me crazy? Or are you oblivious to my need for you, my desire to make love with you?

You roll over and I look at you. You are so sensuous. Your breasts are as I remember; how could I ever forget. I massage your breasts, feeling their texture, their fullness. I love the feel of them. Your nipples are hard from my touch and I caress them. I lean down and kiss you. Your lips are so soft. Our tongues intertwine and I remember how much I enjoy kissing you. I enjoy the pleasure of our kiss. I do not want to stop kissing you, but other pleasures call me. I kiss your neck; lick it with my tongue, tasting you.

I guess I should be angry with you, but I am not. I should never have started this letter; it only arouses me and makes me desire you more. I am so hard and there is a wet spot on the front of my jeans. I never should have written all these words to you. I should just let it die. Forget about it. Put it out of my mind. But how can I? My body burns up with passion for your simple touch. If you could just see me now, see how aroused I am, see how hard I have become, just writing this letter to you. But you will never read these words, never know my thoughts, never read this letter because I will not send it to you. I will not tell you how I feel. Maybe you are right and it is best to let it all fade away as if it never happened. Maybe. But I do not know how I can do it. Not after last Friday night.

I kiss down your chest to your marvelous breasts. I love your breasts. I think they are so beautiful. I love the feel of them, the taste of them. I caress your left breast with my hand, twirling your nipple between my fingers, as my mouth kisses your right, sucking your hard nipple into my mouth. I alternate now, kissing the other. I delight in the taste of your nipples, I suck them, tweaking your nipple with my tongue, arousing you, giving you pleasure, as I become more and more aroused myself. You reach down and feel my hard penis. You stoke it up and down. I look up to see you, your eyes are closed, you're smiling, enjoying the pleasure of my harness. I reluctantly pull free as I continue down your stomach, kissing and licking you.

But it did happen and it will not fade away and I will awake again in the morning all aroused with the thought of you. And I will imagine being with you, tasting you, smelling you, being inside of you and I will sit down and write to you again and tell you how I feel. And then I will throw away that letter, as I throw this one away, and go on as if nothing happened. Until the next moment when it all comes rushing back again and I am all a fire with desire. When I find myself craving the touch of you, hungering for the taste of your body, the sweet smell of your love, an endless cycle that will again fade but never go away. Until something reminds me of you and it will all come back. I should be angry with you, but I am not.

My hands slide down your sides as my mouth slowly glides across your stomach. I leave a trail of moisture with my tongue. I am on fire. I am so hard. I feel your hips under my fingers as I settle between your legs and kiss your pussy. I hold you there, in my hands, so you cannot get away, as if you wanted to, and I inhale the smell of your wet pussy. I love your smell. I draw it deep into my nostrils, filling my head and my mind with the pleasure of your smell. My mind is on fire as my body is on fire. I kiss your pussy lips as if I kissed your mouth, softly and deeply. I French kiss you there, letting my tongue explore your pussy, tasting you. I have never forgotten how wonderful you taste. Your pussy is warm and wet and I savor the pleasure it gives me. I lick deep and long from top to bottom. My tongue searches all around lapping at your wetness, your love, as if I was dying of thirst. I drink of you and swallow you and delight in it. I think that I could lie between your legs forever; never growing tired of your taste, never needing any thing but you to satisfy my thirst, my need for you.

How can I be angry with you when you gave me so much pleasure? I wish that you would come back to my bed, that you would make love with me again. Why do you think this was a mistake? Surely, you must have desired me. If not, why did you come to my house, why did you let yourself in, why did you get undressed and climb in bed with me, why did you make love with me? Was it just a whim? Something you did on the spur of the moment? A meaningless tryst because your friend was out of town?

But I will never know because you do not return my telephone calls, you do not respond to my messages, my pleas, my invitations to come over. You will never see this letter; you will never know what I am thinking, because I will not send it. Maybe you are right it is best to let it go. I lie. Come over and lay naked with me and I will tell you everything. I will tell you how you turn me on, how much I desire you and I will explore your body, leaving no spot untouched, no place unloved, no pleasure left unsatisfied.

I lick you, I taste you, I drink your wetness feeling the pleasure of you on my tongue, in my mouth. I swallow your wetness, eagerly, greedily. I imagine what it would be like if you came in my mouth. It has been so long since you have done this. I miss it, I need it. I can think of nothing but bringing you pleasure and my penis is throbbing with anticipation of being inside of you. I could go on licking you forever.

"I want to suck your cock!"

I turn around not taking my mouth from your pussy and feel you take my cock in your hands. You stroke it. You kiss it. You lick it with your tongue. You take me in your mouth. As you slowly suck me, I find the pleasure almost unbearable. I am so excited, so filled with pleasure; I think I am going to cum. I reluctantly take my cock from your mouth and my mouth from your pussy. I must keep control. I turn around and lay on my back.

"Roll over and get on top of me."

You quickly climb over and sit on top of me. You lean down and kiss me. Your breasts are there before me; I reach up and cup them in my hands, massaging them. You have two incredible breasts, I could kiss them and lick them and suck them all night long. Your hand searches for me guides me to your pussy.

So tell me something. You never think about the other night? You did not enjoy making love with me? You think this is a mistake? Something we should never speak of again? I know I came too quickly, but I could not help it. Is this why you do not speak of it? I was so completely and totally absorbed in the pleasure of being with you that I just couldn't control myself. I am sorry if I disappointed you. I am confident I could last much longer if given another chance, maybe even up to three seconds or three stokes. But I make light of something that genuinely bothers me. I felt like a teenager getting laid for the first time. I came before I was all the way in you. I wanted to make love with you all night long and I came in a moment.

As you slowly leaned back toward my cock, it found its way inside of you as if your pussy had magnetic powers and could draw it in. I immediately lost control. I came almost instantly. I felt my cock exploding shooting all over you. You said nothing as if you did not notice. I went soft and flaccid. I felt terrible, foolish, disappointing. You turned around and sat with your back to me, tried to put me back inside of you.

"What's the matter here?"

"I came."

"You did?"

"I thought you knew."

"No. I never knew. If you had told me you were cumming I would have been screaming and cumming right along with you."

"Sorry."

You say nothing, roll off me and lay down next to me. I hold you in my arms, I pet you, caress you. You lay with your arm across my chest, your leg over mine; we talk about what is happening in our lives. I savor the feeling of you next to me, the softness of your body. I am content, full of pleasure.

Is this why you do not call? Why you do not come over? It is hard to believe I am almost 55 years old when I came like a 15 year old. Come over and I will make it up to you. I promise. But how do you know how I feel, you will never read this. I will not send this letter to you. You do not want to think about the other night. You do not want to be with me. You told me this. Why? Or maybe you are thinking about it, maybe you are disappointed in me, maybe you feel unfulfilled, unsatisfied.

It isn't that I cannot control my orgasms; it is that I could not control it with you that night. Being with you was so exciting I cannot begin to explain. I cannot believe how excited I was to be with you. I think you are extremely attractive, incredibly sexy, a fantastic lover. I love being with you. I love your body. I crave your body, I hunger for you. I cannot get enough of you.

I think I hear a noise down stairs. Every time I hear a noise now, I think it is you. That you have come back and let yourself in again. That I will look up and you will be looking around the corner, naked, saying," Turn off the light." That I will fold back the sheets and welcome you to my bed. That I will make love with you and fill you up with the pleasure I failed to give you last time. But I am dreaming. I will go to sleep now, aroused, thinking of you, your smell, your taste, the softness of your skin, the wetness of your pussy. I will awake again in the morning filled with desire for you.

And I will write you another letter and tell you what I am thinking, what I am feeling, how I desire you. I will throw it away like I throw this one away and the next one and every one. You will never know unless you stop by and get in bed with me naked and make love with me and then I will tell you everything, down to the smallest detail and I will arouse you again and love you again and ... Have I ever told you I cannot get enough of you? Have I ever told you how much I desire you?

"What's the matter Marley? Did you hear something?"

"Turn off the light."

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