PenPal Ch. 05


Dear Aaron,

Not exactly what you expected, huh? I hope that you’re not mad but I couldn’t send you the book that most changed my life. That book would be ‘Atlas Shrugged’ by Ayn Rand and it’s quite a read. The book about Malcolm X’s life was the second book that changed my life. Both books are very heavy, that’s why I sent you the fairy tales to help lighten the mood. I hope you’ll indulge me on my choices.

I’m dropping you this short note before you have a chance to send me another letter because I have found out that you have a hearing in two weeks and I would like to attend. I won’t be testifying or anything like that, but I would like to be there. I hope that you will allow me the privilege of being with you at your final hearing.

See you soon (hopefully!)


He knew he was being childish but he just couldn’t resist writing the letter. The Internet was a wonder medium. Through it, he had been able to find out a lot of information about Aaron, most of it stuff that Aaron himself had told him. The indictment, the trial, the sentence. Aaron had been the most trustworthy of all of the defendants. He had not testified against the rest of them because his role was small, compared to the rest, but most of the others were serving ten to twenty years sentences.

When Aaron’s letter arrived the next morning, he called in sick to work, opting to work at home and bask in the warmth of his words. Of course, Sharon was suspicious, calling him a scant twelve minutes after he’d called in. He knew she would so he was ready.

“Paul? Paul, it’s Sharon?”

“I’m sick, Sharon, not stupid.”

“Are you sure you’re sick? Are you sure you’re not going to be out looking for new real estate?”

“If you’d like to come by and wipe my ass, please feel free. Otherwise, goodbye, Sharon.”

“Paul … “


Aaron’s letter was … Paul couldn’t concentrate on the words, once he started reading about Aaron’s fantasy. He decided that it would be nice if he continued the fantasy because he, too, had also had that fantasy.

Dearest Aaron,

I’ve wanted to introduce sex into our letters but I wasn’t sure of how to go about it. I, too, have dreamed of being there to meet you when you’re freed so I think I’ll start where you left off.

I’m squeezing you against me, memorizing every muscle of your body, hoping to wipe the years of loneliness from your heart. I like feeling your arms around me as if you own me. You do, you know. You own me. I take you to my car and drive you to my home, holding your hand and listening to your voice. You apologize for talking so much but I can tell that you’re nervous. I am, too. You can tell by the tremors in my hands or is that because you are touching me back?

I’m quite a good cook and I have dinner prepared for us. I figure that you would want to stay home and enjoy some quiet time instead of being out in a club. There will be plenty of time for that later. Since I have a little more to do with the meal, I run a hot bath for you and help you strip down. And there’s that cock. You’re such a tease. You won’t let me touch it at all but just before you slide into the bubbles, you allow me to lick the shiny bead of pre-cum from the thick head.

I think you’d like my cock, too. Mine’s nearly eight inches, nice and thick with small veins. My balls are fuzzy and soft. I bet they’ll fit perfectly into your mouth. God, I could cum right now just thinking of your tongue all over them! As for my preference, I’ve mostly been a bottom. I like to be dominated. Not to the point of humiliation, but to the point of absolute pleasure without pain.

My fantasy would be to have you tie me to the bed and ravish me, fucking me so hard that I pass out in delight but my true fantasy would be to have you deep inside me, our mouths touching and sharing breath as we cum together. Then falling asleep with our bodies still locked together, my hand tucked into yours.

Can we make it happen?

With love,


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