Thank You


Dear ______,

I overheard a conversation recently that reminded me I owe you a debt of gratitude. You taught me something that has put me in good stead with other lovers ever since, and for that I thank you. And I suppose that, indirectly, my lovers, both current and former, thank you as well. God knows they've thanked me.

Looking back, do you realize it's been 30 years? Do you even remember what it was you taught me? I told you then that it was a first time for me. But there were many firsts, some for both of us, so maybe you don't. How about this – do you remember me looking up at you, through the soft tangles of hair and over your mound, across the plain of your belly and between your slight breasts, and telling you this was my first time?

At first, I didn't think you were teaching. I just supposed it was two young people figuring things out, but it soon became apparent you had much more experience than I did in this matter. I remember the way your hands guided my head, your fingers showed me the way, and your words - ohh gawwdd, your words. "Use your lips here." "Can you roll your tongue? See this? Feel it grow with your tongue? Now just suck on it, but gently." "Start further back, a little further, a little further. Oh, yes, right there...." "You're taking to this like a duck to water." That last seemed an odd thing to say, at least at first.

I remember the following conversation like it was yesterday. Some time later, after we'd both enjoyed a good, energetic fuck, and I'd rolled onto my back you climbed on top, and straddled me, looking down at me thoughtfully. "You know you're very good at that, don't you?"

"At fucking?" I asked, a little incredulously. I never lasted as long as I wanted to. Never had, and sometimes I still don't.

"At going down on me."

A little hurt, but also a little proud, I simply replied "Why, thank you." A moment passed, maybe several, your eyes still pensive, not straying from mine.

"Do you remember the times I cut my hair really short?" I nodded. "I did that when I was seeing other girls. Did you know I saw girls, too?" I couldn't speak, and only shook my head.

And then you made some excuses for it, and kept talking about it, and talking about it, and then, looking down at my belly, feeling my hard cock beneath you, you said, "You *like* hearing about this, don't you?" Again, all I could do was nod, but you slid forward a little bit, cocked your hips just so, and took me inside. Then you leaned forward, and whispered the rest in my ear, without moving. All you did was squeeze.

My wife has often given me great compliments, but I always assumed they stayed between us. And then, the other night, I overheard her say to one of her friends, "I don't know where he learned it, and I don't want to know. But, he's very good at giving head. Imagine how good a girl would be – I think he might be better."

If you're out there, and by some freak of nature see this, I hope life's been kind to you. And even though it's been a lot of years, I thank you. Others thank you as well, but I thank you more.

Take care,


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