If I Could

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A letter I wrote to a woman I can't have.
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Author's Note:

This is a story/letter I wrote to my lover. It is a fictionalized account of my thoughts and feelings at the start of our relationship, before we physically met and consummated our love. It was my dearest fantasy and I wanted to share it with her, as our relationship started wholly online. Speaking as an author, any and all feedback is both welcome and encouraged. Hope you enjoy it.

To My Dearest Love:

I have loved you for so long now, yet never had the courage to speak my mind, nor act in accordance with the desires of my heart. Though I have told you how I feel, I have restrained myself. I have refrained from racing to your side, just for the pleasure of being near you, giving way instead to the petty dictates of my life. My courage has failed me time and again, keeping me confined to the familiar prison my life has built around me. Where has the spirit of abandon, that sense of boundless adventure that is the hallmark of youthful passion gone? If I could, had I the courage, I would throw fate to the winds and love you to the fullest extent that I am able. If I could.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can see you there sitting next to me. I am holding your hand as we speak, savoring the delicate softness of your fingers pressing into mine. Try as I might, my attention keeps slipping away to be caught up in the play of your lips as your voice tumbles over them, a soft contralto reaching out to bridge the gap between us. Your words, unheard, caress my heart and remind me of all the reasons I have to love you. Your soft gentle lilt washes over me, easing my woes and soothing my spirit. Unconsciously, my thumb strokes the soft skin across the back of your hand.

You have stopped speaking now, a gentle smile playing across your lips. I have been caught watching you. Vaguely aware that you had asked me something, I search my memory, struggling in vain to recapture the words spoken, but they have fled unheard. Embarrassed, I try to withdraw my hand from yours, only to find it caught as I have been caught by you. Startled, I look in your eyes, and for the first time see something else, something undreamed of, behind your gentle gaze. Unnoticed before, I see a tenderness, an affection for me that reaches beyond the bonds of friendship. My breath catches in my throat as my heart stutters it's way up to a staccato rhythm of hope.

Trembling, afraid to believe, I cover your hand in mine, clasping it tightly as I have always hoped to clasp you to me. Smiling, you cover my hand with yours. Uncertain, heart racing, I am at a loss for words at this unexpected turn of events. I am conscious of your warm hands holding mine. Looking at you, I wonder if I have the courage to believe that you might return my feelings in some small way. I wonder if this is the extent of it, or if there could be more? Having taken this small step, I find that I need to know.

I reach out to touch your cheek. You turn your head, laying your face against my hand, then turning further, kiss my palm. A feather's brush of breath sends goosebumps racing up my arm, and with it, a thrill of anticipation. Dare I hope, am I brave enough to believe that you love me, even as I have loved you? With a sense of wonder, I caress your lips with my thumb, feeling their warmth. They are soft and sensuous, without a trace of lipstick to stain their natural hue. I have dreamed of feeling them, tasting them for so long now that I am almost afraid to let this most cherished fantasy go. Yet to feel that fantasy made flesh is too much to resist. You are too much to resist. Trailing my fingertips across your cheek, I caress the line of your jaw to brush your mouth, finding it tender and yielding. Your lips part slightly, taking my touch into a small kiss, an acceptance of my affections. I lean towards you, a mute request, for more.

You return my caress, cupping your hand around behind my head, long fingers entwining themselves in my hair pulling me closer. Your gaze is locked to mine as we close the last remaining gap, those scant few inches between us. Our lips touch and I am immediately lost in you. Your eyes, bright with emotion, are my world; your kisses greater than all my fantasies taken together. The taste of wine slips into my mouth, carried on your soft tongue. Our kiss continues, questing and deepening, a bright spark lighting a flame in the night. I cannot believe how tender your kisses are, yet with the capacity to draw such passions from me.

I am conscious of your body, your every whisper carried on wings of softest breath. I trail my hand down your neck to caress and stroke your back, a gentle touch that pulls your body into mine. I love the feel of your muscles as they ripple with your motion, a motion that speaks volumes of that lithe strength that I have long admired. I had never been able to resist watching you as you move. The grace and beauty of your body, revealed in stolen glances numbered by the hundreds, served to excite my imagination and fill many a night. My favorite peeks came on warm summer days, when your blouse invariably had a few buttons undone. I looked forward to those times when you would lean forward, or (oh, please!) drop something on the floor. The view down the line of your neck and under your shirt would keep me awake that night, without fail and without recourse.

Sliding my hand down further, I follow the line of your back to your jeans, replacing wild imaginings with the tactile sensations of feminine strength. Continuing my languid journey of discovery, I follow your body's flow, tracing the roundness of your bottom. I pause here for a time, massaging and exploring that delicious shape, the unwitting victim of yet more stolen glances (and not a few outright stares). The rocking of your hips excites me, encouraging me to grip and hold you tightly. However, my hand has developed a will of its own, and after a time continues its slow languorous exploration across your hip. You flex in response to my touch, enticing it upwards, drifting to the dip of your waist, that sensual line that defines the curve of your hips and the swell of your breasts.

I can feel your ribs rise and fall with each breath you take. Shifting your position slightly, you turn so that your breast falls into my hand as I continue to travel the sultry shapes of your body. Surprised, I stop, a deer caught in the headlights, mesmerized by the warmth caught in my hand. A pant restarts my heart, and I kiss you again, deeply, reveling in the fullness, the weight that seems to have been created for my hand, and mine alone, such is the perfect fit that we make together.

As our tongues slip together, drinking deeply of each others kiss, so does my hand slip over the curve of your breast, pressing into that full softness, that quintessential representation of all that is woman. Pressing and massaging even as our kisses press and rub against each other, my hand cradles that wondrous orb, feeling the thin cotton of your blouse slipping over the smooth fabric of your bra. I can feel upper edge of that garment, a line that marks the absence of barriers. This line marks the entry to a new realm, beyond which lies the province of tender flesh, the fruits of my desire.

With trembling fingers, I begin to undo your buttons. My need for you burns hot now, hot enough that my hands are shaking for the power of it. After a moment you cover my hands with your own. Moving them aside, but not away, you begin to undo the buttons, one at a time. With memories of stolen glimpses in my mind, I break away from our fervent kisses to see the rest of you revealed for my pleasure. As more of your porcelain skin is exposed, I am unable to tear my eyes away.

Taking the edges of your blouse, I unwrap this gift you have given me, revealing all that had been hidden from my view until now. Resting my hands upon your bare skin, I marvel at the luxuriant softness of it. You sit still, allowing me to take in my fill of this glorious sight, my eyes unable to rest in any one place for long. From the firm strength of your stomach to the swell of your breasts, my eyes take it all in. I am especially taken by the sight of my hands touching you, wandering the landscape of your body, feeling you for the first time. Seeing my hands upon your body is the a thing of beauty to me, speaking with an eloquence beyond words of my love for you.

Slipping your shirt from your shoulders, I continue to marvel at the beauty revealed. Smooth skin laid over feminine muscle, your curves and slopes, your essential femininity is displayed for the first time before my eager eyes. This glowing vision alone is enough to light my every night, for the rest of my life. As delightful as my fantasies have always been, the truth, the reality that is you is so much more. Your shape leads the eye on a tantalizing journey, rising up from your hips through the dip of your waist, around the outer swell of your breasts to follow the gentle slope of your chest to your neck. The lines of your throat lead my eyes back down to savor the valley found in the swell of your breasts. I continue tracing you with my eyes, down across your stomach to end at the waistband of your jeans. The lines of your body disappear within, hinting at more discoveries to be made in the length of your legs, the smooth strength of your denim sheathed thighs. My eyes filled with this vision, I look up to your face, unable to express how blessed I feel for the gift you are giving me this night.

Wrapping my hands around your bare waist, I return my attentions to kissing you. Save that now my intention is not to limit my kisses to the sweet wine of your lips, but rather to shower adorations upon the rest of you. Trailing kisses down your face and neck I allow my hands to come up your body to cup your breasts, embracing their warmth. You are still wearing your bra, and for the moment I don't mind. The fabric slides against my hand as I trace the curve of those delightful globes. My fingers find the edge of the garment and taste the velvety smoothness of your breast for the first time. I am enjoying this slow exploration, this gradual revelation of your treasures.

Kissing your throat I feel your pulse, quicker now, against my lips. Your chest rises in a deep breath of pleasure at this touch, pressing you firmly into the cup of my hands. Soft yet firm, the velvety smoothness of them excites me further, calls me to lavish my worship upon them. Tongue trailing a glistening path down across your chest, I gently lay you back, exploring and tasting your skin as I go, until finally my questing mouth arrives at its destination. My hand, still massaging and rubbing, pushes the swell of your flesh out of your bra slightly to meet the heat of my breath.

Kissing exposed skin, I reach around behind you to undo your bra. My hands are steadier now, and accomplish the task with only slight fumbling. I am steadier now, firm in my purpose, confident in your welcome. Your hands stroke and caress the back of my head, guiding my kisses to where they are most wanted. Your bra undone, I slide it off of your shoulders, brushing my fingers down the length of your encircling arms as I go. Nestling my cheek in the delicious valley unclad, I gaze at the soft mount presented to me with its perfect temple perched at the tip.

Your bra abandoned to the floor, your hands once again take my head, fingers gripping my hair, and turn my mouth to the flushed heat of your flesh. I can taste the salty tang of your sweat, smell the deep musk of your desire building, a faint trace of your perfume underlining and punctuating your essence. I trace the swell of your breast with my tongue and lips, circling the base, an explorer embarking upon an historic journey to the top of a fabled mountain. Gradually, with your encouragement and guidance, I trace my way to the erect nipple at the top.

Heart hammering, my breath coming hot now, I circle your nipple with my tongue, enjoying the textures of the aureole. Mounting the peak, I stroke your nipple and, closing my mouth over it, taste its full sweetness. It is hard now, harder than I knew possible, pressing against the motion of my tongue. I scrape it lightly with my teeth, causing you to gasp, a sharp inhalation of breath that presses you further into my mouth. Eagerly I take in all that you have until I can hold no more. Suckling as hungrily as any newborn infant, I pull my head back, drawing out a moan from your throat, a sigh of pleasure that is not so much heard as it is felt deep within my core. Lips and tongue sliding over every inch of your breast, I strive to bring forth that pleasure in you again, and succeeding, continue to tantalize and taste you.

Massaging and rubbing, I pull your other nipple, twisting it lightly until it is as fully erect as its sister. I trail kisses across your chest, through that wondrous in between to climb this new mount. Repeating my earlier attentions on her sister, I savor your taste, your smell. Every texture is committed to memory, lest this be not only the first time, but the last that we can ever meet this way. I want to memorize every detail of the luxurious landscape that is your body, never to forget. Once a dream, I am afraid to lose the reality, and so force myself to go slowly, an act of worship at the temple of your love.

As I lay my tender affections upon your flesh, your hands grasp me and pull me closer. Once in a while, when I give you a light nibble, your nails will briefly dig into my scalp, a sharp pain that only serves to intensify my pleasure, and with it, my desire for you. You draw your hands down the back of my neck to my shoulders, holding me tightly. Continuing downwards you find the hem of my t-shirt. Hooking it with your fingers, you pull it up, dragging your nails along my back as you go. The sensation causes me to shiver and groan. I am forced to stop tasting your sweetness as my breath stutters into a pant.

This brief respite from my ministrations gives you the opportunity to tug my shirt up the rest of the way, until I have to remove myself from the delights of your skin allowing you to pull it up over my head. Taking advantage of the space between our bodies, you lay your hands upon my shoulders and, pushing me back slightly, allow your eyes to trace the muscles of my chest and stomach just as I had done to you. Pushing me back further you swing your leg over mine, straddling my hips, and lean down to kiss me, deeply, passionately.

I am beginning to lose my sense of self to you. Your hands on my chest, your lips against my face, mouth and neck are the whole of my existence. The brush of your breasts on my chest combines with the heat across our hips to make “us” the only world I have ever known. My hands find their way to rest against your hips, riding the slow undulations of your desire as you flex against me. I wrap my hands around the firm round of your ass, gripping it, enjoying the ripple of muscles as you grind your hips against mine.

We enjoy our kisses for some time, neither hurrying, content to be lost in each other. Our hands wander, touching and reaching, discovering and exploring what delights we can give to the other. A thin sheen of sweat adds a sensuous texture to our motions as we slide, skin to skin and denim to denim, against each other. Now the soft silk of your hair, then the hard ripple of your back, slippery smooth, each touch is an experience unto itself, and yet is but one part of a greater whole. Each new sensation only adds to the heat generated by our lips and tongues as we continue to taste each others elixirs. Your kisses, it seems to me, are a fiery wine that is slowly consuming me, a willing sacrifice to your most passionate demands.

Slipping from my lap, you sink to your knees, touching and kissing as you go. Pausing at my chest you kiss and nibble me, sending shivers of delight through my body. After a moment you continue downwards, your hands stroking across my ribs, stomach, then on over and past the front of my jeans to rub my legs. The sensation of your hands on my thighs inflames me more than I had ever thought possible. Stroking and rubbing, your hands find their way to my crotch, rubbing me through my pants.

Looking down at you, I can see a small Mona Lisa smile playing across your lips. You like what you feel, and that makes me happy. You kiss my tummy in that sensitive area just below my navel, sparking a pulse of heat through my groin, before beginning the slow, luxurious return journey upwards until you are laying atop me, our lips once again meeting in an electric union of love and lust.

Lifting you to your feet I sit up and begin laying a new trail of kisses down your body. I make every touch, every caress and every hot breath a sensual experience unto itself as I once again travel across the nuances of your body. Through hill and valley, mount and dale I experience this landscape of dreams to its fullest until, dropping to my knees, I arrive once again to the borders of the unknown territories marked by the waist of your jeans.

I bring my hands around to the front of your body, a stroke of passion that starts at the small of your back, traverses the curves of your ass and hips, to finish at the gates to your temple of delights. Undoing your button, my fingers lightly tickle the exposed skin of your tummy. Your zipper is drawn down, revealing smooth black fabric under the denim fortress that has guarded your love for so long.

A shiver of anticipation washes over me at this sight. Hooking your pants, I draw then down to your ankles, a smooth motion neither fast nor slow. Stepping you out of them, I lean back to take in the view now revealed to my hungry gaze. Long legs, smooth and shapely and beautiful, greet my eyes. You are almost completely undressed now, and the sight of you has made me harder than I have ever been in my life. Smooth alabaster skin interrupted only by black satin, an enclave guarding the altar of my love, an altar that it has been my life's desire to worship at.

Hands grasping you firmly, I pull this final gateway to ecstasy to me. Kissing you there, my lips press against the precious mound underneath. Your heat bathes my face, an exciting radiance that mingles and joins with the hot pant of my lust. I can taste you where your moisture has escaped to dampen your panties. I can smell the musk of your essential self, your sex. As I press my face against your crotch you let out a soft groan. Your legs, so beautiful and strong, tremble slightly. Entwining your fingers into my hair, you pull me to my feet until we are standing together, faces flushed with the heat of the moment. Taking you into my arms, I lift you off of the floor to carry you into my bedroom. Your legs wrap around my hips, an clenching embrace that tells me not just that you accept my love, but that you want it, need it as badly as I do.

Entering the bedroom, I am reluctant to let you go. I sit on the edge of the bed holding you against me. I slip my fingers under the hem of your panties to caress the shape of your ass, questing and exploring a brand new realm of delights. Finding the join of your cheeks, I press my fingers down into that closed valley until my hand is filled with you. Our position does not allow me to reach any further forward, the press of our bodies making a barrier that I cannot push through without hurting you. I rub and tease everything that I can reach as I lavish more kisses on your breasts, now ideally positioned to receive such attentions.

Taking my head in both hands, you tilt me back. Leaning down over me, your hair cascading over us like a curtain, you treat me to yet another tantalizing kiss before continuing the motion, laying me down beneath you. Slipping down to kneel between my legs you undo my pants, revealing my erection to your examination. Laying your hands on my groin, encircling the base of my inflamed member, you bring your head forward. Your hair falls to obscure my view, intensifying that first delicate touch of your tongue to an experience of electric sensuality such that I am almost undone then and there.

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