Sailor's Blues

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A sailor's letter to his wife.
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dirtyjoe69
dirtyjoe69
972 Followers

To My Dear Sweet Woman;

Oh baby how I miss you. I watch these waves every day, their unpredictable rumba on the unbounded sea, thinking of our dances. Yes, our sweet steps of life's journey, unwavering through any obstacle put before us. Hand in hand we would glide across the tribulations of every day life. No matter the problem, no matter the situation we would find ourselves winning that unwinnable trophy of contentment. Others try to match us, tell us how much they wished their lives could find the steps of harmony we have found. As I watch the sea and its vast emptiness, my heart becomes void. It yearns for your presence to fill its empty space, to feel your passion unbridled. So many nights and so many days I feel the swell beneath my feet rise and fall with each step of the ocean's majestic ballet. The undulations make my heart swell in longing for your touch. A touch that would make even larger swells in me; swells grander than the deep could ever imagine creating.

Every night in my claustrophobic cubical I try to sleep, not fully clutching its enchanting grip to obscurity. My sleeping quarters, so small and constricted, I feel as if I am back in the womb. Yet this womb holds no comfort, no warmness. Holding only lonesomeness so fierce it frightens me fully conscious. I fight the alertness in a vicious battle, merely to lose the fight. Winning comes only after your presence pierces my essence, allowing finally, the sweet surrender to the darkness. It is always the same my love; I toss and turn, eager to grip the night rest but sleep fights me, takes me on in a battle of wills brutal with its fight. Then you come to me upon a dream, a vision, a hope to end the struggle. You are so stunning in my thought, I can barely breathe. Maybe it is the want that has you coming to me out of the shadows. Maybe you can feel my battles and project yourself to aid me in the struggle. Whatever it is I become blissful when you are at hand.

The journey on the seas soon has me mystified. I no longer can tell night from day and day from night. When I am not watching the seas, I am at my job. The radar screen so monotonous, the dark screen and bright green blots of found miscellany, just can't stop the thought of you. I wonder if the other ships' sailors feel the same of their companions. Could they be lost in a cloud of need such as I. How I covet your touch, your breath, your kiss. I am not sure I can even be adequate in my business with my consciousness only conscious of you.

It is another night my pet but somehow this night is different. I get into my cramped station, peel back the fresh linen, and lay my head on my pillow. This time I have made myself naked for my sleep. The cool sheets chill my weary body and cause a shiver from deep inside. Tonight I don't have to fight with the slumber for when I close my eyes you are already there.

Your bathed beauty so vivid, I can sense the fresh flower smell of your lavender soak. I hear your whispered voice in my head. A sound sultry in its tone causes a familiar throb in my groin. A stirring not felt since we parted so many days ago. A need flares my senses and I reach for your body only finding air in its place. You undress yourself slowly in my dream, peeling each garment off as if time had no end. I become urgent in my thought, fearing it may wash away to the deep recesses of my mind. As you shed your coverings and present your bosom to me I suffer an aching from my hardness. I require your contact immediately. A kiss would taste too sweet upon my lips; a nibble of your breast could send me to plains unreached. I see you still, parting your folds, displaying your damp inner recesses. I remember your flavor and lick my lips to the recollection. The hotness I experience is absurd in its level. How can a manifestation bring so much desire? I long for it and reach down to my manhood, polishing it like a brass item during ships husbandry. Softly I rub the throbbing tool, triggering leakage upon my lubricated fingers. You call to me dear lady, and I join you in your moans. My breathing becomes labored and fast. My heart pounds with its rapid beating. I match my heart with my hand movement. Faster and faster my massage runs. I feel the electric sensations tickle my testicles and I cry as the hot solution travels up my shaft and shoots out the top covering me in its tacky sap.

Oh how I miss you my sweet woman.

Love your sailor man!

xxooxxoo

dirtyjoe69
dirtyjoe69
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