tagLetters & TranscriptsMy Gift to You

My Gift to You


I could feel the disapproval in your latest mail. I know I displeased you and I decided that I had to do something for you to make amends so I have devoted this evening to you. After a fairly light meal and a glass of cheap wine I had a scented bath and I washed my hair then I put on a pair of my sexiest knickers (very brief black with lots of red lace trim) and my white towelling robe together with my pink fluffy slippers. My damp hair was in a towel turban.

In this rather vulnerable state I went into the lounge which was only lit by one reading lamp. I lay back on the sofa with my head on a cushion and as I did so my robe gapped revealing one small, delicate white breast. I allowed one hand to find its way inside my robe and begin to gently caress my nipples one at a time bringing them to a state of near erection. I was feeling pleasantly relaxed and pampered and was enjoying the clean scent of myself after my bath. My other hand was stroking my belly just above my small briefs and one finger oh so slowly found its way under the waistband and continued downwards as I continued to stroke my nips.

My head had gone back a little now which I knew was exposing my white swanlike throat. A girl with her throat exposed like that brings to mind all sorts of gothic clichés involving evil counts and helpless virgins. My long finger was at my clitoris now but I was holding back from touching the sensitive lovebud. I was just tracing circles around the small organ on my smooth, shaven white skin. I had not reached the moaning stage but I was gently sighing with pleasure.

All the while I was visualising you sitting on the two seat sofa opposite me. You were sitting back smiling in your smart suit and tie. It was a quiet, gentle smile. I knew you would not grant me the satisfaction of words of encouragement or congratulation. You would want to see me totally debase myself.

My finger was now working at my clitty which was pumping blood as it became fully gorged. The sounds emitting from me were a little less controlled now and my hand went deeper into myself losing all subtlety and working with increased vigour. The hand at my breast was squeezing now quite uncomfortably in a manner which increased my arousal as the hand at my groin began to work in and out and my buttocks lifted off the sofa as my body rose to meet the invading hand. The turban had fallen from my head and my hair was spread in disarray over the arm of the sofa. My legs had moved apart and my feet, which had shaken off the slippers, were over the other arm of the sofa moving in empty air. My legs were apart in a very wanton manner so I had lost all pretence of being a good girl. Of course I could not keep my legs still and my whole body was writhing as I began to gasp. I now had both hands at my groin and both hands were slick with my juice.

Still you sat impassively and I imagined my dad sitting next to you sharing a bottle of wine with you and telling you how he had often seen this debauched behaviour at home when I imagined I was alone. Of course I was no longer controlling the action; my body was its own driver as the passion built up and I began to cry out helplessly with my brain filled with endorphins. I was panting and there was perspiration on my skin. Of course the robe was completely open and my panties were down my legs as far as they would go but my splayed legs would not permit them to go any further. Hating to feel constrained I withdrew one wet hand from my cunt and reached for my needlework scissors to brutally cut the diaphanous material which now hung uselessly from one leg then the scissors fell to the carpet and the hand went back to its violent thrusting.

Finally the passion built to its explosion and, with no thought of the neighbours, I emitted a howl and arched my back. Both hands had now stopped moving and were just gripping my flesh as if letting go would cause my cunt to run off on its own. I lay back gasping for air and feeling the sweat cooling on my body as if I had been dowsed with water. My legs were as wide as they would go and I had no wish to close them and pretend that I was a nice girl. I just lay there looking like a slut who has surrendered herself totally to her base primitive urges with my mind floating. I think I saw my dad smiling as he enjoyed an uninterrupted view of the intimate folds of moist flesh between my legs.

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