Letters to my Friend

My dear friend,

You must tell me right away if you want me to stop sending these "letters" to you. Although I find it to be therapeutic and, well, arousing to send them, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or worse yet, annoyed, that I continue to write these obscene notes to you. It is difficult for me to stop, because it is comforting to remember the warmth of your hands on my skin, your lips on mine, your body pressed up against me as we get lost in each other.

I was thinking of you again last night. I could smell you on the pillowcase, even though you weren't there. I was wondering how you would react if you were to walk in and catch me using some of the toys in my little toy box under the bed.

Would you say anything, or be silent? Would you join me, or just observe? I wonder if I would even acknowledge that you were there; I think it would depend on how far I was buried in my imagination.

I lie on our bed and think about you. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can feel your tongue stroking the inside of my thighs. But you're not there. I rub my hands slowly up my thighs, spreading my legs apart. I turn on the vibrator you bought for me, and pass it slowly from my ass up to my clit and back. Nice and slow. Up and back. I use my fingers, imagining that they are yours, to spread the lips of my pussy while my other hand moves the vibrator to tease my clit. It feels so good. I want it to be you -- your fingers, your tongue -- driving me over the edge.

But just like you sometimes do to me, I pull the vibrator away. I groan from the absence of the motion. I reach over into the little box of toys one more time, and I find a butt plug. I put it into my mouth, licking it, getting it completely wet. And then, just like you would, I slowly use it to penetrate my ass. Oh, so slow, in and out, gently, until I am so wet that I am dripping onto the bed. Then I plunge the plug into my ass as far as it will go.

I am so turned on right now that I know I'm going to cum as soon as I touch myself again. But I want it to last longer. I want to think about you driving your cock into me and fucking me until I scream. So I don't turn the vibrator on; I just thrust it in and out of my pussy, thinking about how much better it would feel if it was you.

I start to wonder again, if you were watching me, what would you do? Would you be touching yourself by now? Would you be slowly stroking your cock, or jerking off good and hard? Would you just cum in your hand, or would you come over to the bed and force your cock into my mouth and make me swallow every drop? Would you cum all over my tits, and let me lick it off my fingers? Or would you climb on top of me and just fuck me like an animal?

As I ponder what you would do, I turn the vibrator back on, as high as it will go. I concentrate every inch onto my clit, while I bury the fingers of my other hand into my pussy, moving them in and out, faster and faster, until I feel every drop of blood in my body beginning to surge. I get to the thought about you shooting your cum into my mouth, and I push my fingers inside my cunt as far as I can. My body begins to spasm. I can feel the waves crashing through me as I think about you cumming in my mouth. I can feel every tremor through the plug in my ass. I suddenly realize that it's me saying, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" out loud in the empty bedroom.

It takes so much energy to turn off the vibrator. I'm wiped out, exhausted from this incredible orgasm. I try to get control of my breathing. I slide the butt plug out of my ass, and that's when I finally look around the room to see whether or not you're there.

You aren't there. I am still all alone with my ragged breathing and my dirty sex toys. A small wave of sadness rolls through me before I take a nice, deep breath and close my eyes, thinking about how good you can make me feel even when you aren't physically here. I think about how I can't cum until you do, and that makes me smile. I need you.

I want you to watch me. I want to know what you would do. Someday, I'm going to find out. But as long as you keeping working the night shift, I will continue to spend the night with my memories of you, the little box of toys under the bed, and my imagination.