Megan's Story: The Love Letter

My dearest, my soul mate and lover:

I am as proud of your professional accomplishments as I have been in mine. Through increased responsibilities at the office you have demonstrated repeatedly that you are an honorable, skilled man who thoughtfully works through each decision and challenge. The promotion you have been offered is a testament to your reliability and hard work. You are a master of organization. Motivating others to work as a team is one of your greatest strengths. You are clearly deserving of the promotion. I am thrilled that your superiors are recognizing what I have long known. My dearest, do not hesitate accepting even though it means that we will have to move.

You have been my rock and safe harbor these past seven years. You are my confidant, my best friend, my lover and, above all, my soul mate. You have not dominated me, but have held me as your equal. You have given me everything from your heart, as I have given you everything from mine. Enthusiastically, you encouraged and supported my professional career. Now it is time for me to support your career without any reservations. Take the position if that is your desire.

Though I am prepared to tender my resignation, Jim says that it is not necessary. Scheduling my classes and office hours for three consecutive days is not an issue. The commute to campus would be 115 miles. If our new home was on the Illinois side and 20 minutes east of your new office, the commute would be a manageable 80 to 90 minutes. Martha is more than willing to rent me one of her extra bedrooms for two to three nights a week.

We have thought about getting a larger home. With the prices on the other side of the state and the raise that comes with your new position, not only can we get a bigger place but it could be closer to our dream home. I look forward to selecting our new home and building our future together in a new community.

My dearest, my ability to express the depth of my love for you falls horribly short. I am truly blessed that you came into my life. Each day my love and passion for you deepen. Twice in these past weeks I have sat in bed watching you sleep. Recalling all of our days together, I have whispered a silent prayer of thanksgiving for you. I had resigned myself to being alone and never knowing the joys of loving a man with my whole soul. But then you entered my life and I have not been the same. Honey, you revived my heart. I have learned to love without condition from a master. You are my dreams and fantasies come to life.

I am honored to be yours and to have you as mine. You could have had many other women. Even some married women looked at you with longing and daydreamed about you. The way you carried yourself around the office raised eyebrows as you passed. Even though you are a deliberate and determined businessman, we all saw your tenderness and your desire to value people above things. Your genuine kindness of heart and the promise of true friendship to all endeared you to me and all of the women. Paired with your smile, your words of encouragement raised spirits and caused many hearts to swoon. And you never seemed to notice how some were flirting with you and signaling their interest in you.

Being 4 inches taller, older, and not as beautiful as many others, I never thought that you I would become more than friends. Plus I was only the part-time consultant. Yet, over those twenty-one two day visits we became fast friends. Sharing lunches and dinners we spent talked more about our loves and dreams than office matters. I was thrilled to have a man sincerely interested in Louisa, the person. I was particularly impressed when I overheard you defending me to three girls who said that my height and advanced degree would prevent me from ever finding a man. I still recall your firm, concise response, "any man who would see those as issues is insecure and unworthy of her love. She is a sensuous, dynamic woman."

Before our first date I was in love with you. Honey, my heart danced with joy when you asked me out. And it continues to dance when we are together. Your embraces affirm your love for me. Your gentle touches bring me pleasure. Your passionate kisses inflame my heart and stoke love's fire that burns in my heart. Your kisses flow from your heart to mine. They lovingly add to my soul, rather than taking from it. My heart cries to repay in kind, by adding love and affirmation to yours through the same kiss.

My heart soars when I see you and hear your voice, longing to feel your touch and presence. My heart aches when we are apart for a day. Honey, I am most at peace when I have you beside me, whether it be in the car, on the sofa or in bed. I feel so lost and empty when you are not near enough for me to place my body against yours. I am happiest when I fall asleep in your arms after an intimate romantic evening.

You move me like none other. You love me unconditionally. You have given repeatedly of yourself to me, expecting nothing in return but my warm smile. We both yearned to be parents. And though I longed to give you that great gift, you comforted me with your understanding love when we learned that I could not conceive. I remember vividly that first night when you just held me quietly as I sobbed upon your chest. During those deep weeks of darkness and self-doubt my husband held me, affirmed me and sweetly dried my tears. Through your quiet comments and comfort I came to understand that the quality of my womanhood was not tied to my ability to give us a child.

Last summer, I realized that although you were in great pain yourself, you did not express it. Tenderly you healed me and lifted the guilt that I carried all these years. The surprise two-week trip to Italy at the end of the academic year was just what I needed to emerge fully from the dark valley. I greatly appreciated that you never looked upon that great sin I committed in college as a sin, let alone a mistake. You affirmed that I was faced with a difficult decision and that it was a no-win situation. I remained your adorable Louisa, your untarnished queen. For all that you did for me during those days I will be forever grateful.

Our marriage is defined by our love for each other, not in children and things. As always you are my healing balm, salving ancient and present wounds.

You understand my estrangement from my family. Yet you encouraged me to maintain contact with Gina. I am grateful for that encouragement, for I would not have become close to Maria. Though we are almost eighteen years apart, Maria is more of a close friend than my niece. Maria, too, experienced your quiet support and healing when she suffered her two crisis points. When she frequently expresses how fortunate I have been to have a husband like you, she is only expressing what I know. You have given unselfishly to her, as well, and allowed her to cry upon your shoulder.

You are an unselfish giver, and I seek to be a giver in return. Honey, one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, I will return your unselfish gift of love with a gift of my own, a gift given from the depth of my heart, a gift to bring great us both joy year after year.

Ken, you are my love and life. You are my sweet husband, my partner for life. I enjoy being with you, whether it is sitting together in the car, walking along the river, or cuddling. Sex with you is a fantastic bonus.

I long for your loving touches. I enjoy your caresses. Feeling your hard cock in my hand causes wetness to flood my pussy. When I am holding your hardness in my left hand, my eyes are drawn to the beautiful juxtaposition of your hard cock, and my engagement and wedding rings. My rings, symbols of our eternal bond, and your manhood look so natural together. My body longs to draw your manhood into it. When my warm womanly channel holds your manly shaft I am fulfilled. I am contented that we are one, not only physically, but in our total being; we are soul mates.

A life without you is impossible for me to fathom, which is why Bread's "Baby I Want You" means so much to me. Together, and in love, we walk confidently side by side through life. I look forward to decades of enjoying your kisses, kisses that go to the very center of my being. Each year, I anticipate additional passionate memories that we can recall together with fondness as we hold each other in our retirement years. I hope that I will always bring a sparkle to your eyes, as you will always do so to mine.

I hope these poorly expressed thoughts convey to some degree the depth of my love for you. As mentioned, I can't imagine what my life would have been like if you hadn't been part of it. I don't want to imagine it. Your love is the best thing that ever happened to me. If only I could give back as much as you've given to me. I got the best part of the deal when I married you. I can only hope that you will continue loving me, and I promise to keep loving you.

Honey, I will be forever yours – my heart, soul, mind and body. Forever I am your lover, your life-long soul mate.

Your adorable Louisa

These beautiful words were penned in love to my husband Ken, the man I have adored and loved for just over four years. These wonderful words represented how I feel about my husband and our marriage. But I am Megan, not Louisa.

Dear Diary, my tears flowed as I lay across my marriage bed. The tears were not ones of anger, nor of disappointment. They were tears of love. This is a woman whom I wish I could meet and know. I could see us being the best of friends. Unfortunately, getting to know Louisa is impossible.

Louisa was my husband's first wife. I met Ken in February, 1981, when he came to my school during the mid-winter open house to present a check for the playground equipment his company was donating to us. Soon we were dating, and we married at the end of 1981, on New Year's Eve. Louisa's letter was penned less than two months before she and Ken moved. Louisa was killed three weeks later, when a gravel truck struck her vehicle. Until I found this letter, her name and manner of death were all that I knew about her.

I found this letter, along with several other items, in an old deeply dust covered shoe box in the back of my husband's closet as I was gathering items to send to the local thrift store. But the letter was not going to return there. No, this letter was also my letter, a letter now stained with my tears of joy and love.

Taking a pen, I signed "Your precious Megan," beside Louisa's kiss-covered signature. Applying my reddest lipstick to my lips, I, too, covered my signature with a kiss. My heart moved me to also cover her signature and kiss with my kiss, and to place kisses on the envelope as well. This letter would not return to the box, but would now be cherished and kept in my bedside drawer.

With Ken bowling in the company league, I quickly showered before putting on my perfume and the red baby doll he gave me last Christmas. Of course, I knew it was his gift to himself. Hearing the garage door open, I quickly turned down the lights throughout the house and lit candles in the bedroom.

Moments later, entering our bedroom, my husband and lover found me sitting on the bed with the letter upon my lap. It did not take long for him to notice what I had found. As he lay reading the old letter made afresh with my kiss and signature, I lovingly rubbed my hand over his chest and thighs.

As he moved to the last page I moved down the bed. Arriving there, I began to undo his belt, then his zipper, before sliding his pants down and freeing his manhood. Standing partly erect, his lovely penis, freed from its confines, drew my eyes. Locking our eyes, with his being moist, I lowered my head closer to his hardening shaft. I continued to gaze into his eyes as I took his familiar hot shaft into my mouth. He finished reading the letter as I enjoyed the taste and feel of his penis. After playing with the top third with my lips and tongue, I disengaged from him. Still looking in his eyes, my eyes filled with tears as I whispered, "Louisa and I both love you. We love pleasuring you. Thank you for all you have done for us." With that said, I took him lovingly all the way, all the way to the base and into the entry of my throat.

While pleasuring him with my mouth my right hand undid his bowling shirt. He assisted in its removal. Five minutes later I moved up to his side, took his face in my hands and, from my heart, kissed him deeply. Our tongues explored each other's mouths. I felt moisture upon my cheeks. He was crying. I knew he missed her. Yet I was not threatened by his memory of her.

Settling over his hips and leaning down I whispered, "you really miss her don't you? You miss her love and presence?" He nodded. My heart broke as I gathered him to my small breasts. I affirmed that it was okay to miss her. Rolling onto my side and pulling him with me, I continued to hold and comfort him. Minutes later, I guided him over me and between my splayed legs. He moaned with me as I drew his manhood into me. We expressed the depth of our love through the connection of our lips and sex. He made love to me. I made love to him.

Ever so slowly his thrusting picked up and drew me toward a climax. He was kissing me with his eyes closed. Was he thinking of her or me? I could not tell. It made no difference. He was making love to his wife and his wife was returning that love.

I came but neither of us was finished. Rolling him over and sitting astride him, I again took his hardness into my softness. As I moved my hips up and down, my eyes remained fixed upon his face. I love looking at him. Ken is my lover, my confidant and my rock. His closed eyes continued to tear. My heart reached out to him. Our mutual moaning became more pronounced. When, between moans he whispered, "ohhh I miss you," I knew he was making love to his wife but not to me. My eyes became moist as I drove him harder and harder. I wanted him to find release and to experience this intimate love from his wife. His shaft was sliding up and down my full womanly glove as I again approached climax. As I was about to cum I heard the familiar moan that comes forth just before he releases. Just a few seconds after he started his release I came hard.

His eyes were still closed as I collapsed upon him. He was still conjoined with his wife. It matters not whether he was conjoined in his mind to Louisa or Megan, or both. He found pleasure in his wife and healing from his wife. And his wife found joy in being with him and for him.

Cuddling afterwards, before sleep's wave swelled over us, I whispered into my husband's ear "I love you. I am honored to be your wife."