Letter to a Cherished Cunnilinguist - Letter 03

July 6th, 1898

Horace my beloved;

Even though you have not written a reply to either of the letters I sent to you, I have not given up hope. I simply had to write to you to let you know that I was thinking of you on this special day. I am hoping that you experienced all of the happiness that birthdays bestow.

It has now been years since we gazed longingly into each other's eyes my love. I recall those heady times when we looked deeply and lovingly at one another and spoke words of love that came directly from our hearts. I listened raptly as you spoke of your dreams and aspirations in life. I hope that, save for your current incarceration, you have been meeting with some success in attaining those lofty ambitions. I hope that years from now, when you undertake a retrospective of your accomplishments during the time that you walked this earth, I will be featured prominently in the story. Surely all of the time that we spent in each others arms was as monumentally sensational for you as it was for me.

I'm not sure, but if memory serves me correctly, you are now 42 years old. I was never quite so vexed by the difference in our ages as you were. I may have been only 19 years old when we first met, but since the very moment we were formally introduced, almost a decade ago, I haven't been even remotely interested in any of the eager suitors who have knocked incessantly at my front door. Yes, I've been with other men since you separated me from my virginity at the tender age of only 19 years, but none has ever been able to evoke the unbelievable depths of wanton lust that your soft moist lips, and your furiously darting tongue were able to coax from my love deprived existence. My goodness, every time I think of the sensual heaven that your innervating tongue was able to send me to, I become so wetly aroused, that I have to spend the rest of the day wearing an absorbent swatch beneath my pantalettes.

I am aghast when I think of the colossal impact that you and your darting tongue have had on my life. The plain truth is, you are not a comely fellow. In fact some would insist that you are somewhat gnome like in appearance. You are neither athletic nor muscular and in your nakedness, as I see you coming down upon me in my dimly lit boudoir, your abbreviated silhouette appears somewhat elf like. You haven't the least talent for social interaction and tend to be far more introverted than I. Yet still, knowing all of these things, the touch of your bewitching tongue between my softly opened legs, the caress of your soft wet lips against my breasts, the heat of your searing breath against my skin, drives me absolutely insane with desire.

Every night I pray that I will stop thinking about you; that I will finally be able to make a return to the normal life that I knew before your articulate tongue enslaved my female senses with its magical caress. But alas, the memory of the phenomenal mouth to genitals lovemaking that you bestowed on me can never fade into obscurity. The moment my head falls to my pillow, your countenance looms up before me in the darkness. I could never and will never forget my loving little lizard with the coiled tongue.

As I lie in bed, unsuccessfully seeking sleep, my mind harkens back to the last time that we were together. It is possible that you will not recall, as tender memories of carnal love, for some reason seem of greater importance to me than to you. The season was over and we had just finished our final breakfast together. I asked you if you wanted to go for a short walk before you departed for the train station. You agreed and so we strolled down the path that runs past the west barn and, once we had moved out of the line of vision of anyone who might be lurking near the manor, I boldly took your hand and led you over to the large heap of straw that was stacked behind the barn. I don't know how I could have been so daring, but I needed to experience your articulate darting tongue one more time before we parted ways. I began to kiss you, but for some reason you were not as receptive as I expected. I suspect that you were worried that we might get caught or that you might arrive late at the train station.

Do you remember how naughty I was that day? I can hardly believe that it was I who behaved in such a brazen manner. I recall that I had purposely worn a wide hemmed dress and beneath it I was wearing nothing. I was naked, without any of the usual undergarments that any young lady of good breeding would ever go without. Your eyes filled with lust as I pulled the dress up, displaying the dark triangle of my pubic mound. As you stood there, mesmerized by the sight of my private parts, I grasped your hand and pressed it against the dark, moist curls of my female center.

I recall that you recovered fairly quickly from your initial hesitation when you felt how warm and wet and ready I was for the touch of your loving tongue. I pressed your hand hard against my impatiently swollen labia to let you know how much I needed to feel your oral caress. You came to life immediately and dropped to your knees between my shamelessly spread thighs. I could feel your fingers parting the hair that guarded my intimate slit. Oh Horace. It was such a delicious feeling! I let myself fall back onto the piled hay, my legs parted wide, allowing you full access to my most secret place. My pink lipped opening spread wide, eagerly awaiting your oral attention.

My covert plan had worked perfectly. When you saw me lying there, my legs wide spread and my maidenly innocence in full view, you became a raging stallion. You dallied not a second and fell hungrily upon the softly opened flesh between my trembling legs. I felt an electric shock dance along the length of my passion engorged labia as your probing tongue slid effortlessly between the swollen pink lips of my womanhood. I felt like I had been struck by a white hot bolt of lightening. You licked hungrily at my female crease, from the very bottom to the very top. The sensation left me breathless and impatient for more. I pulled immodestly on the back of your head in an impudent attempt to propel your tantalizing tongue even further into my ravenous canal of lust. But you persisted in your intention to explore every part of the center of my maidenhood with your intrepid serpent of oral lust. You pushed my legs further apart, spreading wide the gates to my most intimate locale.

With my maidenly center now laid fully open and completely vulnerable, you placed your lingual servant at the lowermost fold of my female crease and slowly, evocatively, commenced a libidinous journey along the channel that lies between the moistly saturated and conspicuously swollen lips of my female identity. My body shook with wanton need as your provocative tongue slid tantalizingly along the depression. It first encountered the smaller inner lips that guard the access to my sexual entrance. It moved innervatingly around them and over them repeatedly, creating tiny contractions that sent searing signals of increasing need to my love fevered brain. Then, on it moved, like an articulated viper, sampling all of the flesh that slid fleshily beneath it in a to and fro search of my sexual treasure. Like a beagle in search of the fox, it finally found the tiny button of arousal that protruded from the upper folds of my sex. It was, by then, rigidly swollen with the passion that was ignited by your relentless oral fondling.

You sucked it hungrily into your mouth. Your lips locked around its tiny base and held it there securely while you slowly began to caress its turgid anatomy with your tongue. At the same time, you sucked it gently, creating an erotic experience that defied description. My head began swimming with the rapturous delight being endowed by your bewitching mouth and tongue.

I don't know how long you held me slave to the delicious articulations of your tongue and lips. I was lost in a colossal flood of lust and carnal wonder. I laid there, the passion swollen lips of my sex opened wide to the expert machinations of your oral lovemaking. I recall reaching once again for the back of your head. Finding it, I began pulling in an effort to let you know that I was ready for the total satisfaction that would only come when I felt your tongue stab deeply into my love starved vaginal sheath.

You were immediately compliant. Your oral manipulation of my outer genitalia ceased and I felt your tongue move to the small lips of my inner gateway. You pressed insistently against them, spreading them apart to allow passage of your oral appendage. Then, like a warrior wielding a dagger, you plunged your tongue deep into the hot wet scabbard of my maidenhood. It was an awakening. All of my pent up need, all of my wanton longing, was released as your flailing tongue massaged the length of my love canal and lovingly caressed my womb.

I can't even remember how many time I was shaken to the very centre of my soul by all of the blindingly erotic climaxes I experienced that day. I can only suppose that the thought of losing a love such as yours drove me to heights of passion that I'd never before been able to reach. I think I was trying to make up for all of the sensual fulfillment that I knew was going to be lost when you departed. Do you remember how licentiously demanding I was that day? To my everlasting shame, I thought only of my own satisfaction, never considering the social consequences of being far too quick to accommodate the sexual needs of a man I had known for only a few months. I hope you do not think less of me for the moral weakness I displayed that day.

Although I am most partial to the oral lovemaking that you so expertly bestow, I wanted to participate in traditional intercourse with you that day Horace. I remember that you didn't want to take the chance of leaving me impregnated and refused to engage in coitus as it simply wouldn't be safe to do so. I assured you that it was not a concern at that particular time and that we had nothing to worry about. In your excited state, you reluctantly agreed to my suggestion on the understanding that you would withdraw your stiffly distended member from my vagina once your ejaculation became imminent. .

By then, we were both committed to full and complete penetration and I recall the shock that I felt when you threw my legs as far apart as they would go and drove your turgid phallus all the way into me in a single ardent thrust. I barely felt the pain of my maidenhead being shattered as my need for you was overpowering all of my other senses. You were a stampeding stallion. I don't remember you ever being more driven by unbridled need than you were that day my darling. Your face was crimson with lust as you pushed furiously in and out of my virgin vagina in a frenzy of carnal joy. My God, it was wonderful! I cried out in fleshly abandon each time I felt another climax approaching.

I again lost track of time as our lovemaking continued. I remember your voice shook with sensual ardor, as you told me how good it felt to be inside of me. You kept varying the tempo of your thrusts, speeding up and slowing down, thrusting deeply and then shallowly. You withdrew your pulsing, crimson headed warrior of love from my female opening several times and slid it to and fro across the prominent rise of my tiny button of sensory delight. That particular act gave rise to a myriad of delightful sensations that were so succulent that they inhibit my attempts to sleep to this very day. All the while, your hands squeezed my heaving breasts as your magic lips sucked their soft pink peaks.

My head was spinning in delirious circles of lust when you whispered in a hoarse and passion filled voice that you were about to ejaculate your substantial cargo of seminal fluid. Your body began to tremble with the euphoria of the moment and I knew that it would be only a few seconds until the springing of your seed. I quickly wrapped my legs tightly around you to ensure that you couldn't withdraw your stimulated member from the loving embrace of my vagina. I wanted to feel your essence rushing into me. I wanted to feel your penis straining inside of me as each voluminous jet of love nectar exploded into my eager body. I wanted to hear you moan with satisfaction as you expressed every last drop of your essence deep into my warm, nurturing vagina. I wanted to feel you collapse against me, totally exhausted, when our lust was finally sated.

A few minutes later, you raised your head from my breasts and told me that I had been foolish to keep you from exiting my vagina prior to ejaculating. I acted sorry and ashamed, but I was so happy that I finally had living evidence of your love residing deep inside of me where it belonged. I knew that it would not result in a shame filled conception outside of marriage but would satisfy a deeply nested need that had been consuming me from the moment that your magical tongue first held me hostage to its divine touch.

Just sitting here writing about that final sexual experience between us has set me afire with lust. My undergarments are soaked through to my outerwear and the settee I now occupy will soon be bathed by the sopping evidence of my lascivious thoughts. It seems that I just can't think about you without wanting to once again feel your loving tongue thrusting deeply into my secret place. When will it ever end? I want you every minute of every day and every night my loins ache with need as the memory of your darting, searching oral appendage reduces me to a sensually deprived reprobate. Please let me know that you still have feelings for me. Please assure me that I wasn't just a notch on your bedpost of sexual conquest.

I have to go now. I have a meeting at the agricultural board tonight and must get ready. It will be a difficult meeting because I'll be thinking of that sensually charged Summer when I had you and your enchanted tongue all to myself.

Please see if you can arrange for me to visit you at the penitentiary where you are now billeted. Is there an area in the establishment where we can be alone and will be allowed to express our physical love for each other? If so, I will hire a carriage immediately and make my way to your side on wings of undying devotion.

Your love slave forever,

Connie Lingus