Trying To Make Sense

Dear S,

It is with alot of different and intense emotions that I write to you about what happened this past weekend. I'm not even sure where to start. I have always loved you and cared about you so much, and you should know that I always will. As you can imagine, it's love that you should never question or wonder about. What happened doesn't change that, and I want you to know that, too. It's just that what happened can't continue. Just because it doesn't continue has nothing to do with my love for you.

Since you went to college and after your graduation from college, I've watched you grow so very much into the smart and handsome young man you are today. I'm proud of how successful you've already become. And, I've liked how you've carried yourself. Strong and confident, but respectful and responsible. It's because of this appeal of your's that I had mentioned to you that you should be careful with women.

You looked at me strange the times I mentioned this, and until this weekend, I'd always thought that it was because you weren't sure what I was talking about. Now, it's clear that you must have taken that as some kind of subtle tease. That I was commenting on your success with women or something. What I had really wanted you to think about was not hurting them. When you are handsome and successful, you are going to break some hearts, I meant. Now, I realize you must have taken this as flattery.

Surely, this last weekend was something I should take some responsibility for. It was the second time I had visited you there in the city without bringing Roy along. But really, it shouldn't have been something I needed to be careful about. I was just coming to visit you.

I want you to think about it and tell me if I gave you different signals somehow. I had no intention of doing so. Yet, you took me out to dinner like you would have a date or something, and then out dancing. With the wine, it must have turned things hazy for the both of us. You didn't make matters any easier by your compliments on my dancing. When you're older like I am, such compliments mean alot. And yes, they especially mean alot coming from you. You already know that now, don't you?

Looking back, it's much clearer now. Dinner, drinks, dancing. Your flattering me, and me eating it up. I at least had the good sense to go on to bed when we got home. When I woke up in the middle of the night, my good sense must've left me, huh? When did you climb into bed with me? Your rubbing my shoulders helped me stay groggy and relaxed. Your hugging me to you was probably when I should've gotten up. When I didn't get up or move away, did you know I was too far along? You know I felt you there, and you were obviously aroused.

I didn't get up, and you kissed the nape of my neck. All I did was put my hand to your hair, as if it was alright. That was wrong. I should've gotten up, because it was all getting to me. Between my love for you, the drinks and good time out that night, and the fact that I hadn't been intimate in so very long, I didn't want to move, didn't want to leave.

You turned me toward you so that I was lying on my back, and I felt so vulnerable to you. I shouldn't tell you this, but I liked feeling that way. Very much. In the dark there, I said nothing as you reached under my top and cupped my breast in your hand. Your gentle squeeze and the finger rubbing my sensitive nipple sent shocks through me. Things blurred for me, as you lifted my shirt further up and put your lips to my bare skin and hard nipple.

I was beginning to move away, when you did what I didn't think you would actually do. You pulled yourself over me and got between my legs. I was disbelieving when you parted my legs futher apart. I should've had on panties. My hands should've pressed more against your chest to move you from me, but I didn't even resist very well, did I?

I let my hands move to your shoulders at the same time that you lifted my legs, didn't I? Is that when you knew for sure you were going to have me or had you already known? I just wonder. You fumbled at yourself down there, and it gave me a moment to again resist, didn't it? I'm horrible for having let this happen. I remember feeling embarrassed, when I felt you lodge yourself at my lips, since then you must've felt how wet I was. All I could do was take a sharp breath.

I shouldn't tell you this. But, I think I started orgasming as soon as you got yourself fully into me. You were so hard, and it felt so thick, that rolls of pleasure swept over me. Your hips bucking at me, and my sex taking you in over and over felt so sensual and so intense that I had to cry out like I did. You going harded and faster made another orgasm start to well up inside, and I hated myself for reaching my legs higher up your back.

You were panting and pushing so intensely that I wanted you to feel the same pleasure that I had. It was just the moment, I hope you know, that made me say the things I did. I had never talked that way around you. Never had you heard me say the word "fuck." I never would have thought I'd have said for you to go ahead and fuck me. That was crazy.

Even though crazy, it must have done something for you, huh? I saw you flex and tense. Heard your grunting. You pushed as hard as you could into me, as you pulsed inside of me. Thinking back now, it's so raw and incredibly nasty that you came inside of me, that it's actually having an effect on me as I write this.

We held each other afterwards, and we felt so very close. The next morning you were so sweet and so gentle with such a weird situation. I'm glad you understood that I needed to hear how no one would ever ever know our secret. And although I didn't respond at the time, you should know that I did like what you had said that morning about how attractive I was and about how you didn't care whether it was right or not that we had done that. You couldn't see, but I smiled at how you said you would do the same thing again any time and anywhere. That was a turn-on actually. It still is.

Unfortunately, the reality is that it will have to be that one time thing that happened. Something we will always know , and that no one else ever will. Something we can look at each other and smile about quietly. It is something that I'll remember from time to time and really savor. It just can't happen again, and I really do appreciate that you understand that.

It's good to get this to you so that you understand how I feel about what happened. I guess we can talk about it some more if you need to. I do trust you. At the end of the month, Roy has a sales conference in Jacksonville, and I'm going to be just hanging-out around the house. You probably have plans, but just in case, I thought I'd mention it. It's a big house here, and it's very quiet when it's just me here, so let me know.

Love,

M