Lovingly, Alexis

Chad's responses were written by a male Author who would like to remain anonymous. I am very thankful for his time and work.

Chad,

After seeing you again tonight I knew I had to write to you, to let you know how I truly feel. I know that you feel the same as I do, but I'm not sure just how far you are willing to go to satisfy your hidden desires. I keep reliving the night we had together over and over in my mind. The pictures are so vivid even now as I think back on that night from a year ago. I know that nothing really happened, but the electricity and passion that passed between us like bolts of lightening every time our hands brushed against a thigh or arm was unmistakable. I could see it in the depths of your deep, brown eyes even though you tried to hide it by quickly looking away. I caught you looking at me when you didn't think I was watching. I saw how your eyes moved over me as silently as the moonlight, how your body tensed as you watched me with the others, embracing them in friendly hugs. I knew that you wanted me to show the same attention and more to you. Did you have any idea how much I wanted to show you how I felt? Any idea how badly I wanted to leave the party and go with you, anywhere, just to be alone with you?

The one image from that night that consumes my thoughts is when we were the only two people left, aside from our hosts. How we sat beside each other by the fire making small talk, our knees and thighs touching against each others, seemingly an accident every time. I knew it was deliberate. Did you feel the same tingling deep in the pit of your stomach as I did? Did your heart race as fast as mine with the thoughts of how maybe, just maybe, we could actually sneak away and be alone? Was your mind reeling with sketchy plans of how we could leave unnoticed, how we could secretly meet somewhere after we left? Were you already plotting an alibi as to explain the missing time to anyone who might ask for an explanation or who might see us together?

My entire body was aching as I sat beside you, wanting you to reach out and touch me, let me feel the warmth of your hands on my body, even if it was just to cup my cheek as you looked wantonly into my eyes. My heart was pounding so wildly I'm sure you must have heard it, if only faintly over the sound of the crackling fire. I had a hot burning feeling deep in my stomach that radiated down past my wet, pulsating sex and through my taut thighs. The throbbing of my clit was maddening and became almost unbearable when you nonchalantly rested your hand on my thigh as you spoke to me. All to quickly you with- drew your hand. I could still feel the heat from it through my jeans minutes later. My face was flushed with my desire, my need to have you inside of me.

As the night drew on and our hosts went inside to tidy up the house before bed, I recall my most vivid memory. Do you remember what happened then?

I stood up, close to the fire to warm my cold, trembling hands. Not so much trembling from the cold but from the sudden realization of knowing we were finally alone. Anticipation, I guess that would be a better word. Anyway, I stood with my back to you holding my hands over the dieing fire. My heart jumped and felt as though it nearly stopped all together when I felt you behind me. Your body barely touched mine as you spoke low, almost a whisper into my ear. Do you remember what it was that you said? You asked "Does it make you uncomfortable for me to be so close", and then you pressed yourself against me and I could feel your breath on my neck. The heat from your body wove itself through my clothes and warmed my skin so nicely. I sighed just then and moaned a low soft moan as your hands came around my hips. That was my only answer. I couldn't trust myself to speak. I was afraid of what I might say. Your cock was so hard against my ass as you pulled me back into you by my hips. I stood there for several minutes feeling you grind yourself against me, my head lulled back on your shoulder, wanting so badly to turn around and feel you grind into my pelvic bone. I can still remember you breathing in my ear, ragged and uneven. You whispering, asking me if you could kiss me, and your breath fanning my neck as you groaned when I pushed back into you harder.

Chad, does the thought of that kiss still make your lips burn, ache with wanting more? Do you remember the look in my eyes when I turned to face you? Can you still taste my tongue in your mouth if you close your eyes and remember that night? I can. I still feel every touch, taste every flavor, smell your cologne and the fire and hear your breathing in my ears.

I wanted you so badly at that moment, as your mouth closed over mine, your tongue softly parting my lips. My right hand immediately came up to caress your face as you deepened the kiss, probing my mouth more intensely. I loved the feel of the ruff stubble of your beard against my hand. I let my tongue glide over your teeth and lips as we stood there by the fire. I remember your hands sliding up my body and your left hand tenderly cupping my right breast. Your thumb made slow circles around my hard nipple and I moaned into your mouth. I pushed forward letting your right leg slide between mine, feeling my wet panties being pressed hard against my throbbing nether lips as you raised your leg slightly up into me.

And then we heard the door opening and knew that our hosts were coming back outside. We couldn't dare to be caught so close together and risk my husband finding out. You backed away slowly, being such the gentleman, so that it looked like we were only standing by the fire talking. You winked at me as they came closer to us and mouthed the words, "I'm sorry".

I never got the chance to ask you why you were sorry. You shouldn't be sorry for anything that happened, I'm not sorry for anything that we shared that night. I wish I had not waited so long to tell you how I felt. I wish I had told you sooner that I would have left with you that night. That I have thought about you so often since our brief encounter, that I have fantasized about being with you even if it could only be one time.

I'm telling you now that I have longed for that night to happen again, that if you would just ask me to meet you I would be there without a second thought. Do you still feel the same way after so much time has passed? Am I still in your thoughts? Do you think back on that night and wish it had never happened or that you would have asked me then to go with you?

Chad, please respond to this letter no matter how you feel. I'll understand if your feelings have changed, after all, a year has passed, and I'll always have the memories of that night if you wish to not act upon the passion we shared then.

Lovingly yours,

Alexis

*** *** *** *** ***

Alexis,

How overwhelming to hear from you after all this time. I'm assuming this letter will get to you with no chance of interception? As then, I worry about destroying your marriage. At this point in my life, I know marriage and commitment are not going to be part of my life. I respect those who desire a life bound with another, and have achieved it. I was sorry that night, because I came dangerously close to destroying it for you.

I am a dangerous man. I do not seek or want a life bound to another. Perhaps it is insecurity of meeting another's needs on a sustained basis, or selfishness--wanting my money, my time, my impulses to be all mine.

Yet, I am a man. With a man's needs. And I've become somewhat adept at watching for the moment; a moment like we shared that night permits me to meet my own selfish physical need.

I knew your passion. Had our hosts not been there--our chaperones--I'm sure I'd have pushed all the right buttons. And it would have been unfair to you. I would have endangered your marriage, while not offering you any relationship in its place. Just a night of sweaty passion in front of a fire before moving on to the next woman.

As I approach 30, I am developing a conscience. I manage to keep it in a box most of the time, but that night it battled to get out.

"Do I still remember you?" you asked. Would you believe I thought of you just this morning, before I went out for the mail? Perhaps if I tell you how I thought of you, you'll appreciate what a low down scum I am, and how you were so fortunate that our hosts were there that night.

I was at the end of my morning shower. I reached for the soap one last time, and reached down and took hold of myself. If there is not a woman in my life, I find I must take care of myself at least once a day or I am distracted all day.

What shall I think of this morning? I asked myself. I've found memories of women I've not had as enticing as thinking of women I should have had. For that reason, my memories of you, and that night are the most enticing.

In my fantasy about what might have been, our hosts excuse themselves to bed. They have insisted we all have drunk too much to risk driving, so they offer us the two guestrooms upstairs in the back of the house. Their room is just across the hall, so they could attest to your husband, if need be, that you were properly chaperoned.

It occurs to me though, during that kiss you describe so wonderfully, that while they might hear us from across the hall, they aren't likely to hear us out here, in the backyard, a good distance from the house next to the crackling fire.

My hand leaves your breast, but only to slip under your sweater. I undo your front release bra. You moan--is it passion or objection? But our mouths are locked together, our tongues dueling so you cannot communicate. I take your full, weighty breasts, just the way I like them, in hand. I pull my mouth from yours, and pulling up your sweater, take one of your nipples into my mouth. I reach around and grab your ass and pull you close, letting you feel the hardness you've caused. I lick, and nibble, paying attention to both your nipples.

You pull my shirt out of my pants, and I feel your hot hands encircle my waist. Then one of your hands forces past my belt and into my pants. I know then I'll have you.

In the shower, my soapy hand increases its pace. In my mind, your hand does the same. I go to my knees. I unsnap your jeans. As I'm lowering them, you step out of your sandals. My eyes see by the firelight your moist panties, and I can smell your passion. You step out of your lowered jeans, and I slide your panties down and off. You try to sink to the ground to join me, but I grasp you firmly by the hips and you understand I want you to remain standing.

I kiss your knee then slide my tongue slowly up the inside of your leg. Knowing my destination you put your feet apart, spreading your legs slightly. My tongue reaches your sex and I lick and flick my way around your hairy bush. I hear your breathing becoming more ragged, and I center my attentions more on your clit. Your knees buckle and you finally have to collapse to the ground. I do my best to keep my tongue on your pussy as you hit the ground. You lay back and spread your legs fully as I crawl forward, my tongue lapping at you rapidly. You cum hard and long, your body shuddering as you struggle not to scream. Finally, the feelings are too intense, you urge me to stop. I ignore you for about half a minute, as your body is wracked by wave after wave of orgasm.

I stand, and remove my clothes. You lay on the ground, looking up at me, still panting hard. You spread your legs further, ready and eager to accept me.

"Roll over on your knees" I command. I wonder if you are seeking intimacy, but I know on your knees, with the ground underneath, we are not intimate. We are animals, and this is how I want you. You comply immediately, and I enter your pussy from behind. Like dogs, we fuck quickly. Do you want me to take my time? "Fuck that", I think as I pound your pussy, mindless of your needs, but only thinking of my need to cum, to possess you, to add you to my long list of conquests.

I re-soap my hand, and lean my head against the wall, as I rush to the end of my fantasy of you. I'm gasping to you as I approach cumming, "I'm going to cum in your pussy."

You surprise me. Your voice is raspy, and guttural. "Yes, Yes Chad. Fuck my pussy, cum deep inside of me. "

Then you shock me, "Pound my pussy. Hurt me. FUCK ME!" you demand. I grunt and cum inside of you. You collapse under me, and I realize you have cum too.

We dress. And sheepishly smile at one another, before we kiss goodnight passionately. We walk upstairs together, and say goodnight to one another properly, and purposely loud enough to be heard by our hosts if they are still awake. I slip under the covers. I know you want me to come to you. I roll over and go to sleep. I was up and gone before you awakened the next morning.

I first had that fantasy the next morning, Alexis. I knew if I saw you again I'd want to make it reality. But you deserve better. Do you have any idea how many women I've been with in the last year? I don't remember most of their names, but I remember yours. Does that comfort you?

Back in reality, I clean up what you have caused in my shower and I start my day.

Had our hosts only gone to bed that night, Alexis, things would have been different.

Chad

*** *** *** *** ***

Chad,

I have been stalking the mailman for days now, almost to the point of giving up, hoping for a return letter from you. My heart nearly beat out of my chest when I saw the letter with no return name, I knew instantly it had to be from you. I ran to the bedroom and locked the door even though I was alone, eager to open and read your reply.

You call yourself a dangerous man. I disagree. You are but only a man, a man with primal needs just like any other. You are at least honest with yourself and me about your intentions of marriage and relationship. I commend you on that. I wish I had the same feelings. I adore my husband but something pulls me to you and makes me weak in your presence and in my beliefs. With that said I also must say that I would have no regrets.

I was overjoyed to hear that you remembered me so vividly; perhaps as you said "it is the ones that you haven't had that make the best fantasies". Maybe that is the very thing that draws me to you. You are untouchable, out of my reach. Or are you?

I read through your letter letting each word of your fantasy caress my body and take root in my mind, not really thinking of the meaning of the words. I let myself lay back on the pillows of the bed. I held the letter in one hand and started to rub my throbbing pussy with the other, under my skirt. I envisioned my probing finger as your tongue as you licked upward, parting my lips so softly. How can a man who calls himself dangerous be so gentle, so tender? Your words seemed to want to scare me, frighten me away. You made it sound as though you thought I wanted more from you. This is hardly the case.

I am a woman, not like many others. I want exactly what you want. I want the feel of a warm, willing body against my naked flesh. I want primal passion, without the emotions of a relationship. My body yearns for the feel of yours, the passion of the kisses like we shared that night. I want sex, be it rough and un-intimate like your fantasy, or caring and gentle without the fear of "love" clouding the situation. And I do believe it can be that way, Chad, caring and loving without falling "in love".

You have what I want...what I need. The very thought of you causes a deep throbbing and burning heat in my pussy. I get so very wet thinking of the many ways you could take me. You feel safe to me, like I could trust you not to fall in love and yet we could satisfy each other's desires endlessly.

Let me tell you of the fantasy that I had just last night of you.

We start to secretly meet at hotel rooms, the park late at night and in the back seat of your car behind secluded buildings in the middle of the day. Anywhere, anytime the need drives us into each other's arms. In this particular fantasy we are in the park. I walk around in the dark looking for you, feeling uneasy being alone in the park at night. As I pass a cluster of trees a hand comes around from behind me, closing over my mouth to keep me from screaming. When I feel the body against my back I know that it is you, but I struggle against you anyway, kicking and twisting, trying to pry your hand from my mouth. I don't have a conscience thought as to why I struggle but somewhere in the back of my mind I want you to take me forcefully. Somehow I think that in doing so it will reestablish the grounds of our meetings; that they are for sex and sex only.

You pull me backward into the dense cover of trees, your hand still holding tight over my mouth. You whisper into my ear, "Shhh". I start to calm down. Keeping your hand over my mouth you let your free hand slide down my neck, closing around it tightly for a brief moment and then moving on. I am wearing a V-neck sweater and your hand moves softly, deliberately into the loose opening. Your fingers find my already hard nipple and pinch it roughly, pulling at the sensitive nub and then pinching hard again. I moan into your hand and you start to move it from my mouth. I quickly bring my hand up to yours and put it back in place. We have been intimate enough times that you understand my gesture without me having to verbalize.

Chad, are you starting to feel hot and flushed? Do my words make you want to keep that conscience locked away forever? Am I making you think long and hard about giving in to your desires?

The hand inside my sweater starts to roughly knead my heaving breasts. My body is limp against yours, silently begging you to take me as I grind my ass into the hardness pressing into me. You kiss my neck and your hot breath sends shivers all through me. You withdraw your hand from my breasts suddenly, quickly, and jerk my face around to look into your eyes. Your hand moves off of my mouth and your lips close over mine hard, before I can protest, sucking and biting at the tender flesh, pulling at my lower lip with your teeth. I turn around so that my breasts are crushed against you.

And then without warning you place a hand on my shoulder and force me down to my knees in front of you. I gasp, sensing the wildness that has overcome you. You take a handful of my hair in your fist as you fumble with the zipper and button on your jeans and pull my head back so that I am looking up into your face. When you have freed your straining cock from the confines of your boxers you force my head forward, roughly parting my lips with the tip of your twitching cock.

I open my mouth slightly, letting my tongue slowly drag over the tip, savoring the precum that has gathered there already. You thrust your hips forward, pushing the length of you into my mouth. Guiding me with the handful of hair that you still hold tightly in your fist as I begin to suck eagerly.

Mmm, Chad, I will stop now, I can hardly sit still long enough to write this to you as I think about what it would be like to actually do that. You asked if I had any idea how many women you had been with in the last year? I wouldn't even want to think about it. It doesn't matter. It only makes me jealous that I wasn't one of them. And yes it does comfort me in some small way to know that you remembered my name while not remembering the names of those you took into your bed. Did you think of me when you were fucking any of these nameless women?

This is what I want from you, Chad, an animalistic act of pleasure. Fucking...satisfying each other without emotions other than lust.

From the fantasy that you describe in your letter I would bet that mine is something you would have no problem fulfilling. I want to make a proposal to you... you can take it or leave it. Although, I hope with all my being that you accept.