Dreams of Honey

The following is an actual letter I received from my high school sweetheart after we went to college in separate states. This was around 15 years ago, well before email and PMs and other instant forms of electronic gratification. Back in the good old days when the written word was really written and you hoped to god your yearning letter of passion didn’t end up in some disgruntled postal worker’s yard. I don’t know if transcribing this for your eyes is an act of betrayal, celebration or simply self-indulgence, but it’s therapeutic for me, I suppose. And I want to record this while I still can – the paper in Lori’s original letter is yellowing and her curly cursive fading.

To help set the scene, know that Lori was a virgin when we met. A brilliant math and science geek, she had no sexual experience whatsoever. But she was a quick and eager study, and she explored her sensuality with the same vigor with which she attacked her lab projects. Tall, blond and rail thin, she had a great ass and a curious nature. She was willing to humor any of my teen fantasies. She rented an anal-themed porn for my 18th b-day. We read Anais Nin and Penthouse Letters together in bed. We fucked everywhere, and all the time. She even claimed to be willing to have a threesome with her hottie best friend (which, unfortunately, never happened). With her youth and total lack of expectations she didn’t know enough to be inhibited.

Now I’m warning you: Her fantasy isn’t especially explicit, it’s not the most erotic prose you’ll see and it’s certainly not that descriptive. Hell, it’s unlikely you’ll get off reading it. But it is true. And try to picture this: Imagine a shy, reserved 18-year-old alone in her dorm room late at night, wondering how to please the boy she loves. Imagine the horny, lonely boy’s surprise when he opens the envelope to find this letter.

Surprise! I can’t believe I actually wrote this!

Mmmmm. Lori awoke once again with her hands between her legs. It had been a glorious dream, a dream of honey, and it was the third time this week the same dream had filled her subconscious. It began with Andy and her completely naked. God how she loved his body, his chest. And his chest is where she would start with the honey, writing “I want you” before smearing it around with her own breasts. Ever-so-gently she would begin to lick him clean, using only the tip of her tongue while rubbing her breasts against his chest, his legs, his hard sex.

Then she would start to draw on herself with the honey, dripping it down her shoulders, over her already stiff nipples and all over her belly. From the way she was sitting on Andy she could feel his penis throbbing between her legs. She wanted to grind down on top of him so badly and feel him deep within her womb. But they hadn’t yet had their 32 prescribed minutes of foreplay, and she knew he would make her wait. She smeared honey all over herself and Andy joined in, kneading her breasts, teasing her nipples.

Andy took her arms and spread them wide, exposing her to his intense gaze. He knew just how to turn her on. Soon he was on top and she on the bottom. He spread her arms and legs eagle-style and tied them to the bedposts. He sat with his heavy penis weighing on her belly and began to lick some of the honey off her tingling skin. His penis was hot and throbbing and it was well past 32 minutes. She wanted him. “Now,” she moaned.

He chuckled. “Be still,” he said in answer to her pulsating hips. He moved so that his head was between her legs and began to blow gently on her moist, steaming flesh. The coolness of his breath made her even hotter for him. She tried to position her sex closer to his mouth. “Be still,” he warned again.

She wanted him to eat her out. He was so good at licking her and she wanted to come. He began to tease her sex with the tip of his tongue. She moaned, begging him to put his penis inside her. She couldn’t wait. He answered by turning around and sticking his sex in her mouth. He tasted so good. She tried to get as much of him as possible in her mouth, in her throat. She wanted him to groan with pleasure. His tongue was now inside her, his fingers spreading her wide. She felt exposed again and shivered. She wanted him so badly. Just as she was about to come, he pulled his mouth away. “Please!” she moaned.

He untied one of her hands and directed it to her vagina. Putting his penis in her mouth once more, he watched as she began teasing her own sex, finding the spot she knew would lead her quickly to orgasm. Just as she was about to come, he began to eat her out again, but this time not slowly or teasingly. She came in his face over and over, her hips jerking and her muscles clenching.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said. Andy turned around and drove into her. Hard. He placed a pillow under her bottom so that he could go deep, his girth stretching her. No one and nothing else had touched those intimate places far inside her passage – the passage to her soul. She was his. With the next plunge Lori came again, and soon Andy followed, his piercing eyes locking on hers as he filled her with his seed.

Then she woke up, wet. The itch was still there. Dreams and fingers were no substitute for the real thing. She would have to wait for him.

Oh my gosh! I’m sorry that was so crude, but I’m so horny tonight. I miss you very much. I wish I could sleep with you. By the way, don’t you owe me a story? I’ll try to do better next time.

Love,

Lori

P.S. I want you so badly right now, in case you couldn’t tell!