Just Letters With No Barriers

Christina is a very shy girl when it comes to letting Steve know what she wants in terms of sex. He thinks she is embarrassed feeling such animalistic desires, though they are only human nature. Basically, if she has something “perverted” to say, she writes it down instead of actually saying it. Both are 25 and not the most sexually experienced. They really haven’t done much in their six-month relationship. Just your basic missionary position, the occasional blow job, maybe some finger fucking… She doesn’t enjoy him going down on her. She never says why, but he thinks she is uncomfortable with a possible negative scent. She pays little attention to her pussy; she doesn’t ever masturbate, so far as he knows. When he looks at her with such disbelief, she looks at him like he’s crazy. So he has run into a block with her. How can he pleasure her, when she doesn’t even know what she likes?
Knowing that she’s going back to school for her doctorate in English 500 miles away, Steve has an idea. Why don’t they write letters back and forth about what it’s like to have a penis or vagina? She blushed when he suggested this, but agreed.

October 2003

Christina,

I miss you already. I miss lying in your arms and I wish I could be with you right now. I know we’ve only known each other for a few months, but it’s not easy being apart from you. I could spend hours just talking to you.
I tried to figure out where I’d start with my explanation of my penis. I’m finding out that I’ve really taken my penis for granted, because I am at a loss of words right now at how to explain it. It’s funny, because all I can think when I think about women and their vaginas is how does it feel, how does it feel?
When I try to answer that question about my penis, I am blank. Let’s go all the way back to when I was 14 and masturbated for the first time… I had stolen some issues of Penthouse out of my brother’s room and quickly ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I opened to the pages of the naked woman and my cock grew as I rubbed it while flipping the pages. I remember thinking how good it felt and how I didn’t want to stop and that it was the strangest feeling. I kept rubbing harder and I was filled with the greatest pleasure that spread throughout my body and soon my eyes were closed and I was really rubbing, then the feelings gathered in crescendo and the mucus substance I know as cum came flying out!
From that moment on, I knew I had discovered a little part of heaven and wanted to relive that moment over and over. God had given me this wonderful gift.
But it was also a curse. I was, as men are rightly labeled, a walking hard-on. Having a hard on all the time was painful and embarrassing. Imagine me at four-foot-nothing with a nine-inch dick poking out in front of me! The style of fashion right now allows baggy pants, which, for puberty, is a godsend. But I wasn’t so fortunate. Tight was in and that meant not only was it very noticeable, but it was very cramped. You know how I sometimes hug you so tight that you say you can’t breathe? That’s how my penis felt. I’m surprised I didn’t lose the circulation in my penis back then. These hard-ons were embarrassing. I would embrace them now, but back then, it was a time for great ridicule. If a boy had a hard-on, all the girls pointed and laughed. And it was a guaranteed that if you had a hard-on, you’d be required to stand up where your penis would be standing tall for public display.
I should have been proud. Nine inches is not a bad size; I could’ve played baseball with it. But we also know that we were so unsure about so many things, adding puberty to the equation, was just cruel.
What do you do when you have a hard-on all the time? You wack off as soon as you get home from school. Basically, you wack off as many times as you can without anyone knowing about it and by no means ever admitting you do something like masturbate.
One last note for now… You know how we talk about making love all night? I love that idea, but as far as using my penis to do that, it’s impossible. Once I cum, there must be some time for it to revive itself. When I was 14 (to 17 really), I could cum, wipe off the mess and then start again. I never had to stop.

Love,
Steve

P.S. I’ll try and keep the letters shorter, especially with you going back to school.


OCTOBER 2003

Dear Steve,

I was so happy to receive your letter! And so soon!
Yes, I’m busy already, but no amount of studying or fatigue will keep me from maintaining my promise to you. I confess: I’ve been intrigued by the proposition of explaining what it is like to have a pussy. Part of me is definitely skittish – what words can I use? Any? I don’t want to disappoint you in my descriptions, but it’s true that I’ve never given a lot of thought to my actual, physical vagina. But this is exciting! It means I can explore and share my findings – maybe I’ll surprise the both of us.
I guess I will have to lead you back in time, to youth, when the awareness of my body was blossoming. Though we were taught in school about our periods, any information seemed irrelevant to me until mine actually started when I was eleven or so. Some of my friends had already experienced theirs, saying that now they were ‘women,’ which I didn’t understand. The only difference I noted was that bleeding every month was a hassle and I was more embarrassed than excited. Even when my mom made reference to ‘being a woman,’ I didn’t understand; it wasn’t as though I magically became one of those full-bodied, adult women plastered on all the magazines I saw.
Menstruation is not an arousing subject, I know, but for a girl it is usually the first reminder of our pussy. You said that jerking off became a lifelong routine, and having a period is, too. In the first few years of adjusting, a girl wonders: do the boys know, can they tell, does it smell bad, should I try using a tampon and if I do, is that like having sex? It is laughable, maybe, but real nonetheless.
I had my period before I even had pubic hair. I didn’t even realize that women, let alone men, even had dark curly hair on their privates; I had never seen my mother naked or peeked inside a porn magazine. When I was 12 or 13 I remember lying in the bathtub, loving the feel of the warm water, and noticing blond hair on my mound that whispered back and forth if I moved just a little bit. It fascinated me and frightened me – if I could grow hair there, could it grow anywhere?
Ok, ok, I must stop for now. The hour is late and I know I could write an entire essay on the topic we’ve decided to discuss in these letters back and forth. I am weary and want to crawl into bed and dream of you… whacking off. He, he!

Love,
Christina


NOVEMBER 2003

Dear Christina,

Don’t get me started about wacking off. Just thinking about these emails that we’re sending makes me so hot, that I just have to relieve myself!
I’ll try to make sense of this mess going into my head. Where do I start again? What were you thinking when you saw all those boys with their hard-ons? I’ll tell you that we were way too worried about our hard-ons, to even really notice too much else. We weren’t thinking about periods or smell. We were thinking about getting you naked. We were thinking about whacking off some more.
The wind caused erections back then. So imagine if the wind has that power, what kind of power woman had on us!
The problem, again, is we lacked confidence to approach you and I think you budding women did, also.
I’m trying not to get side tracked, but a thought came to me. Before I learned to masturbate and was nearing puberty, I was rewarded with wet dreams. I’d awaken slightly sticky and smiling because somehow I had received intense pleasure in my dreams. These wet dreams weren’t as intense as masturbation, but at the time, I thought they were the greatest thing ever! I looked forward to sleeping. The wet dreams didn’t come that often. Twice a month was probably the extent of it. In comparing masturbation to making love with you, making love is easily more pleasurable and intense.
I’ll stop there for today, but feel free to ask me any questions you have.

I love you,
Steve


NOVEMBER 2003

Dear Steven,

Tonight I feel… decadent. Writing without knowing when we’ll see each other again makes me feel I can be someone else. Someone I can be through the anonymity that only a pen and paper can provide…
When last I left you, I had been noting the earliest sign of physical sexuality for a woman: her period. What I did not reveal then is that as time wore on and menstruating became routine, I was left to notice other factors associated with it. I refer to the hormones that rage through the blood. Men seem different that way: the physiological change experienced in males is fleeting and a matter of circumstance. For women, the coming arrival of her period brings with it a storm of sensation, feeling and thought, good and bad, even weeks before menstruation actually occurs.
I can’t tell you how soon I realized it… not until I was legal to drink, surely. Prior, I only recognized the strength of negativity and chaos that consumed me. Like your erections, it seemed a curse: PMS seems to begin at least a week before actually bleeding, which then lasts as long as another week, and therefore I was left feeling sane for only a week or two at a time before the roller-coaster began again. While society refers to PMS as a cycle, a setback, an interruption in how a woman might otherwise think, feel and behave, I have since decided that it is simply a part of who and what we are. The symptoms that manifest are just magnifications of what we are.
But I lose myself… I wanted to share with you what I realized once I was able to forget the bother beforehand: the aftermath. And that was this: once my period began and for the week afterward, the previous hormones that caused nothing but angst instead became a surge of desire. Perhaps it is the physical reminder of being so fully female? Knowing that my body is capable to reproduce, procreate, maybe sparked in me a tidal wave that can only be described as… lust.
While I may rarely act on it, I do appreciate it. What I perceived as unattractive before became nothing but sensual curves and succulent skin. The esteem is nothing I can explain with any sort of justice. Once the period dissipates, I am left feeling full of… sex. It becomes my perfume, my scent, and it seems everyone about me senses it: my desire, my ability, my power as a woman.
And I choose now to reveal to you a secret, Steven. I do masturbate. No, I do not inspect my nether region with any sort of fascination or with the purpose to discover. And no, I have not kept it from you due to any shame, but more because it seems sexier to keep it to myself.
But I will expand upon that in later letters, and in the meantime I will consider investigating my physical self to help better describe to you what it looks like… both in reality and in my imagination.
I look forward to your next letter, love…

Christina,

WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WHEN YOU SAW BOY’S HARD ONS IN HIGHSCHOOL?

You didn’t answer that question last time I emailed you. Did you notice the boy’s hard ons or were you more worried about your period?

Having a real conversation with girls in high school became a lot harder with puberty. Every girl that I saw in high school I was thinking what they’d look like naked. I am driven by my dick.

When I met you at the local coffeehouse, my first thought of you was you being naked. When you’re checking the melons at the market and I’m watching you, and you ask me what I’m thinking and I say nothing; I’m lying. I’m thinking of you fondling your breasts. Every action that you make is a cheesy porno movie going through my head. Everything is about sex. I can’t help it and I will not apologize. Do I do that with other woman? Yes. Maybe, my honesty here is not a good thing, but I don’t want to hide anything from you. Do you think of other men like that? Do you think of me like that? When you see a banana do you think of my cock and its insertion in you? Here I go again, going porno on you.

Finding out that you masturbate has got me wanting to see it first hand and not in my mind. I’m really enjoying this exchange of sexual thoughts.

When did you first masturbate? Was it by accident that you discovered this wonderful self pleasure?


Love with tongue,
Steve


DECEMBER

Dear Steven,

I have always been a bit self-absorbed and therefore never paid much attention to boys and what their penises were doing within their confinement. I was definitely more interested in my own body and its changes than to guys and whatever it was they struggled with. On occasion it did cross my mind that something else was alive behind their zippers and I wondered what it was like, but I was much too concerned with being perceived as attractive – to my peers as much as to boys. Perhaps I worried too much, then, if the simple fact that I was female was enough to turn the guys on? Hindsight means little… I never saw a fully erect cock until I was nearly adult. Even in high school, I don’t think I ever witnessed the embarrassment of a guys’ manhood standing at attention, let alone on my behalf.
Think nothing apologetic of your pornographic wanderings, love… it is expected and I am woman enough now to understand this. And yes, sometimes my head does wander with such dirty possibilities… with random men passing by, with you, with a celebrity on television. But these are only wanderings and rarely ever a distraction – save the moments I am ripe for loving after my period has dissipated and left me feeling ravenous for physical pleasure!
My first memory of masturbating is in the shower when I was about eleven years old. However, I am unsure if it ought to be considered because it was not with the intention of relieving sexual tension, but more for curiosity. This was around the time that I started my period and thought it somehow made me sexual. I sat astride a shampoo bottle and moved up and down on it, but nothing came of it.
My initiation to masturbation for the purpose of definite self-pleasure was not until I was nineteen years old. I had suffered some hardship and found myself living again with my parents while I tried to reorganize my life. I had broken up with a boyfriend whom I slept with regularly and the sudden dissipation of sexual fulfillment drove me mad! I went with a girlfriend to a sex-toy store and purchased a beautiful lavender vibrator. Locked in my bedroom, I shut off the lights, lit a candle and started my favorite CD… I thought of nothing but how good it felt against my pussy. And nothing more. The music carried me through awesome, indescribable waves of the softest ecstasy… it may have been my lover. I came many times that night, and never thought of the ex-boyfriend again.
My current preferred method of relief is in the bathtub… I lie flat on my back and spread myself beneath the rushing current of water, my legs pressed up against the wall. Sometimes I think of hidden men watching me, sometimes I imagine you discovering me and caressing me as I bring myself off without a single stroke to my sex, but more often than not I think nothing… but the supreme comfort and sensation of lying in such warm water, relaxed, untouched by the darkness of reality…
I must leave you again, though I wish I did not have to. I wish you were waiting in my bed, waiting for me to crawl in beside you…


Christina,

I miss you so. This is tortuous just reading of your naughty deeds. I so like to get your emails and I think I really should come and visit soon! We’ll have to figure out if that would be possible with all your studies.

It’s funny that you didn’t notice the boys in your classes and their hard ons. I can’t imagine you not noticing them; our cocks sticking straight up in our skin tight jeans.

I can’t believe that you didn’t pleasure yourself more once you discovered you could until 19! As soon as I realized I could feel such pleasure I was doing it all the time.

I need sex all the time. Do you feel that way too, or does it take some time for you before you are aroused? What’s a big turn on for you? For me, knowing that you want my cock inside of you is my biggest turn on. Just the thought of that, makes me instantly aroused.

A common theme for me when masturbating for my mind is me in a locker room with all girls’ cheerleading team in a line, waiting for me to fuck them. Patiently, each waits, to slide down on me.

I’ll say goodbye now. I can’t wait to hear from you.


Dear Dirty Boy,

Not masturbating until I was 19 shouldn’t surprise you so much, as you are well aware of my naïveté in the bedroom. Not noticing boys should, either. Life as a girl is far different; we are complex creatures. Even upon realizing my affect, I did not realize it as sexual until I was aware of my own sexuality. Until then, boys were just attention and little else. Even knowing that sex monopolizes the minds of most guys, I still find it difficult to believe and it keeps me wondering if men are women are ‘meant’ to combine as one for anything other than procreation and pleasure. For example, a person, male or female, who demonstrates strong sensitivity and passion is very arousing to me, regardless even of their appearance. While it may be true that sexual attraction is sometimes a result of physical attraction and nothing more, I have found, in my experience, that someone not so physically pleasing to my eye becomes far more so once I have learned them, discovered them. When I realize what turns them on, ignites their desires… then I am aroused. I contend that more women than men are this way; we often need more… substance to spark our sensuality.
Is it true, then, that age has not dissipated your desire for intercourse at all? And why does it seem strictly physical to you? Is it that way for all or most men? Is it true, then, that a woman can be nothing more than a beautiful face or body to turn you on? Have you never encountered a woman you found attractive, only to learn after short conversation that she is irritating, dull or unintelligent? And even if so, does it not change anything about how your penis feels about it?
You insist you need sex ‘all the time.’ What do you do in my absence, then? Surely masturbation is not the same? Do you solicit affairs behind my back, blaming your cock for your lack of discipline? Or do you stifle the pressure, seek relief in your own hand and wait patiently for our reunion? And why is it that you need sex all the time? Strictly physical? Expound, please… I find it difficult to understand. It seems it must be true that your member is a different mind than your own.
Though I have already shared a few examples of what I find arousing, I will try to detail more for you. Highest on my list? Confidence in a man… curiosity and intellect in a woman. I do find women sexually appealing, you know. I especially like women who seem frail, demure, but in my grasp fall to comfort and find freedom in my presence.
Passion and sensitivity definitely rule over all other stimulation. And by this I do not necessarily refer to passion in regard to love or sensitivity in regard toward me. I mean passion about anything and all things: passion for art, for a habit or hobby, passion for a belief or effort. I mean sensitivity to life, to the subtle, varying nuances in all things, the sort of sensitivity that broadens the heart and mind because it is touched by everything.
Knowing you want me is also very sexy. Let’s expand on this… knowing anyone wants me is arousing, though it doesn’t always mean it is reciprocal. Along the same vein, knowing a woman finds me attractive is more appealing than knowing a man does for all the obvious you have stated yourself: men find most women fuckable. It diminishes the value… I become one of thousands, whereas a woman is far more selective, cautious and creative about her same sex.
This is long and the night is growing old, so I must soon close. Let me first address your cheerleader fantasy. Of course, I understand that my preferred type of fantasy differs from not just yours, a man’s, of even anyone… what makes me what I am is the same as how I concoct all my ‘fantasies’: it must be something possible. Something bearing potential; something that carries with it a grain of reality… Do you truly believe you would be up for a team of vivacious, able, athletic young women? That would be a lot of fucking.
If you refer to a straight-sex fantasy, something to think of while getting myself off, one of mine might be of fucking you while a roomful of beautiful people watch or pass by. A situation reminiscent of ‘Eyes Wide Shut.’ Nothing seedy, nothing spontaneous, but rather a public display of our intensity, our energy, for others to absorb.
If you refer to fantasy as to what arouses me, it would include the idea of a powerful seduction. Not of being seduced, but of enticing another. Probably even a woman, as therein lies more challenge.
Must go to sleep now, love. Tell me in your next letter what it physically feels like to plunge yourself within me. Metaphor, or be crude, I care not. Just tell me.


Yours,
Christina


DEAR CHRISTINA

Your last letter was very enlightening, but also very depressing for me. It is like I am of two personalities Mr. Steve and Mr. Penis. The later being present most of the time. I sound so shallow when you explain my one track mind. No, I would never cheat on you or ever desire to. Masturbating is definitely not the same as making love to you. I find myself thinking of you in perverted ways, even though I love your mind too. I can’t help it and when I slide myself inside of you, I never want to leave. It is true I find your body unbelievable and that is what I first noticed about you. But it is your kindness to others, your heated debates, the way you look at me and listen to my every word. I find it so glorious the way we can talk all night together and never lose a beat. But I think I put a lot of emphasis towards sex with woman because in high school it a girl’s virginity was sacred. I think a lot has changed since I was in high school, but at the time I was in school, pretty much every girl was closed legged.

You asked me to describe what it feels like to plunge inside of you. I will do my best. I’ll try not to get side tracked.

I get side tracked already. What I would really like to do with you is have myself lay down on the bed and have you place your sweet pussy on my face and fuck my face until you can cum no more. I want to taste you and I want my face to glisten happily when we are done.

Okay, back to plunging inside of you. It makes me feel so good to see you so ready and excited to fuck me. I worry that I don’t pleasure you enough. I am not the most experienced. When I slide inside of you, it is like heaven. I like the slow sliding sound the condom and your walls make together. I like the feel of my cock as it glides inside of you and I love it when you rock your hips towards me. Your cunt muscles squeeze on my cock and I have to think of anything but the deed we are doing. I love your little moans. I like the way you wrap your legs around me and let me plunge myself deeper in you. I love the sound of our smacking. I love taking my dick completely out and putting it back inside of you. It is like your pussy is giving me such tight hugs. I love flipping you over and taken you from behind, but I don’t do that often because your pussy muscles cling so tightly around my cock, that I have to cum almost instantly. I also love looking at your firm ass as I plunge faster and faster inside of you. You pleasure me so easily; I only want to do the same for you. I would do anything for you. I need you so badly right now. When you sleep tonight, dream of me. Hopefully, I’ll see you there and we can make up for some of the time apart.

I know I didn’t describe things as well as I’d like, but I’ll think more about it for another letter.


DECEMBER 2003

Dear Steven,

Christmas is near. The snow outside leaves me cold within, reminding me you are not here to keep me warm.
I did not mean to cause you distress when address your last letter. We are to be honest, yes? Often, when typing my notes to you, I veer to tangents. I never reread them before sending them off, so perhaps I should?
You asked no questions in this most recent letter, so I am unsure what to address. Perhaps your mention of nestling your face between my thighs?
Obviously, this is nothing we engage in often. I have never been able to explain accurately why I find it uncomfortable. Maybe it is because I am impatient to have you within me, maybe it is because as a woman I feel passive and enjoying such pleasure makes me feel unworthy. On occasion I question its hygienic attributes, but not often. I prefer to share the interaction; perhaps if I had you trapped within my mouth at the same time, it would not be so distracting. I do love to wrap my tongue around your cock. I also enjoy having your fingers exploring my pussy while we ravage each others’ mouths.
I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try describing how it feels to have you within me. Imagine having a dry mouth but having to wait for a drink; the longer you must wait, the drier your mouth becomes and the thirstier you become. Now imagine being offered glass of whatever serves as your favorite liquid: a glass of good wine, milk, cool spring water…
It might be better to relate it as a pothead might: you smoke bud and have nothing in the house to snack on. You were hungry to begin with, and now, stoned, your appetite is tenfold. Someone knocks on the door. I enter, carrying a basket of a tasty dinner. Maybe steak, medium, mashed potatoes, a thick, warm apple pie. I spoon eat bite into your waiting mouth and I hope you can imagine the little bit of heaven.
On a more realistic level, I will try to help you understand. In moments of passion, my sex becomes hot, wet and aching. Desperate. It feels swollen and pulsing, as though breathing heavy. Like a baby in need of a pacifier. Fingers and toys are not enough and not the same; I need the same heat, the same pulsing. O, and when you slide it in… heaven.
Damn. Now I must relieve myself. See what you’ve done!
Write back soon, sweet love.


Christina,

I’m sick of masterbating and trying to conjure you in my mind as I play out another fantasy scenario with you. I relieves my desire temporarily, but makes me feel empty because it is not the same as being inside of you.

Do you experience the same problem when masterbating? It feels good, but it stills leaves you feeling empty.

Christmas is coming and I don’t want you getting anything for me, and as agreed I won’t get anything for you. But I had an idea. When you come home, I want us to grant the other’s greatest desire. Whatever you wish I will do for you.

You say that you don’t feel right laying passive while I eat your pussy, but I love the taste of you. I love hearing you moan and feeling your pelvis grinding into my face. I love the way you play with my hair as I lick your delicious pussy. I love pleasuring you. That is my biggest wish; to desire and pleasure you. Do not feel bad about cumming over and over. That is what I need and my male ego needs.

To be honest with you, I feel like I don’t pleasure you enough. I feel like you enjoy the sex, but you never get off completely. You end about being sexually frustrated. I’m not worried about this. We can fix this, but I just wanted to let you know.

Waiting impatiently to taste you again,
Steve


Dear Steve,

Our letters have unlocked possibility. Sexual fantasy lurks everywhere now, it seems. I do not mean to cause you any distress, but I must confess that I enjoy masterbating even more now than I ever have. The dirtiness I once associated with it now seems delectable, like a naughty secret I keep. The emptiness to which you refer I have definitely felt before, but no more. This is surprising because we are apart, but yet it also seems inevitable, as being apart has unleashed something within me I didn’t realize was there.
Whatever you wish you will do for me? Think carefully before you make such promises, love… my imagination has started whirling with provocative ideas and what I want you might not be able to provide or be anything you would have though I could ever think on. And perhaps what I want is not even anything that ought to be realized… I believe it true that some fantasies are better kept that way, lest reality tarnish it.
For example, what if my most powerful desire were to have you “lend” me a friend? What if I wanted to be treated as a possession, a trophy on your arm that you share with others when the mood is right? What if, in offering me as a gift for the night to another, I didn’t want your company during the encounter? Or, what if I did want your company – wanted you to watch how someone else might fuck me?
O! I’m sorry. I find it easy to be so candid when I am writing, rather than confronted by your deep eyes peering into mine.
What if I wanted to know how it was to be with a girl, but in my wish to discover, I wanted it my own, at first, which would mean you would not be around to observe or participate? What if I wanted to know what it felt like to be a man, and I wanted to wear a strap-on? I don’t think you’d want to play that way… but perhaps I could with a girl.
Please don’t be alarmed or fear our love is in danger at all as I travel these paths through my head. It is new and different, you see, and I have you to thank for encouraging me to explore them.
I don’t think on it all the time: never, really, during the day, when I am preoccupied with book and lectures and homework. Not until the evening begins to wind down and reality is brushed off to nap for the night. I begin to think of you, of us, my past, my experience, and these thoughts include sexual possibility.
I don’t even feel we’ve spent much time thoroughly discussing what is like to have a penis or a vagina, which only serves to prove that sex is far more than appendages that aid in granting us pleasure. It feels there is freedom in talking about it, even just those basic, everyone-has-one-or-the-other and will do it at least once topics. There is so much more!
Maybe I felt passive because I didn’t understand. Not only the concept, the act, or the reason, but also the feeling, the energy, the way in which it helps powerfully shape each of us, as individuals.
I’ve run off on a tangent, and that is enough for now. Please right soon and tell me this letter does not shock you.


Much Love and Desire,

Christina



Christina,

THIS LETTER DOES NOT SHOCK ME!! I thought about your letter while I was sitting in the high school overseeing an English final. Much of the fantasies that you have confessed or said what if to are all said to be very bad ideas. These ideas lead to a lot of hurt feelings. So my first reaction was no way, but then I took a different attitude. Why not? We’re both young, why wonder about things, let’s experience whatever we want and just be.

Let’s not be afraid of what we may or may not want. Let’s just be frank about things. All the fantasies you have listed I am game to, except for not being present when you are being fucked. I want to be a part of all your pleasure and see it too. My love, as far as you wearing a strap-on; I’d love to discover what your “cock” would feel like up my ass. I’d love to put my cock up your ass.

I’ll stop there about the fantasies.

You never let me know if I pleasured you or not. I said I was worried I didn’t get you of properly. If that is the case, we really need to fix that.

I’ll do anything for you love,
Steve


TO STEVE

I’m sorry; I thought I made it clear that it wasn’t a matter of you pleasing me properly, but a matter of me letting myself be pleased. And if you are game to my wearing a strap-on, perhaps we can experiment. Let me remind you, however, that all I write is different than actually discussing it aloud, let alone actually doing it. I am still unsure about what I want to bring to life.
If at first you thought “No way!” to my dirty ideas, how then did you come to take a different attitude? How does one, if it hurts, resolve it? Is it only that you felt it would hurt, but your head said it might not be so bad?
You said that we ought to be frank about what we want and our fantasies, yet the few you’ve offered have been fairly broad. Surely you have realistic fantasies with me? Bondage, maybe? A threesome maybe? Share with me some of yours.
I sat on my bed the other night with my cosmetics mirror, naked. I fell to a fitful of giggles, feeling so silly about wanting to see exactly what MY pussy looked like. I’ve seen drawings, painting, porn, but never really MINE.
After I recovered my hysterics and settled down, I did some ponderous investigating. First, I found that it was difficult to easily view due to my pubic hair. I knew it to be abundant even if I shave the bikini line, but I never!
After finding my way, I pried apart the lips to discover a beautiful, small pink nub, which is my clitoris. I touched it very soft with the tip of my finger and it is true that even caused a gentle shiver through my body. Applying further pressure resulted in nothing; only the caress pleasured me.
The following day I spoke with a girl in one of my classes, whom I usually visit with, about hair ‘down there.’ She said she got tired of it and shaved all hers off! I thought that was only for porn stars, and when I said so, she laughed. Rather than feel embarrassed, I was comfortable talking with her about it. She said that it didn’t hurt, men found it appealing and it helped repel the odor that sometimes accumulates when the area is so long confined in such a humid state. Steve, she even recommended a razor and said she’d walk me through it!
So I did. I am bare as a prepubescent virgin. It is amazing! It is so soft and round. Of course I looked at it again with the mirror, and it is so pretty! Wait until you see it! I hope it doesn’t bother you… but it wouldn’t, would it?


Christina,

I am so happy that you shaved yourself bald down there! This is part of one of my fantasies with you. I wanted to be able to look at your sweet pussy and explore it with my fingers, face and tongue. I plan on doing this until you can cum no more. Remember that pleasuring you is my number one goal.

I wrote last time that I was not entirely comfortable with all your fantasies, not because they weren’t good ones, but because I think you and I could have something together. I don’t want to lose you . Sometimes fantasies are better left only thought about. Jealousy is a big factor in a relationship ending. I changed my mind later because we can’t let fear control our lives. I want to explore all the possibilities with you. I want to tell you that we can take our time and discover new sexual possibilities together.

You want more realistic fantasies from me? I’ll give you a couple right now. I promised to keep the letters short. I’d like you to fuck me up my ass and I’d like to do the same to you. I’d like you to tie me up and vice versa and do whatever we want to the other. I think what I’d like most is to be next to you right now in your bed, flipping through a sex book and choosing one to do.

Just holding you would be good right now.

Your sex slave,
Steve


Steven:

I had no idea you would ever prefer me shaved. Why didn’t you ever say so? Maybe small things you said and did indicated as much, but were subtle enough to keep from rocking my boat, though kept me fearing you didn’t like the hair.
It is so soft, Steve, I can’t tell you… it makes a part of me feel younger, fresher, somehow. The bathtub sessions are now incredible, as though my clit is so naked and exposed that it is that much more sensitive!
And while I adore the idea now of you releasing a frenzy between my legs, it dawned on me that you never refer to sex in any way other than physical. There is no metaphor of emotion, I mean. How much sexier I think it would be to say instead of wanting to explore my pussy with your fingers and tongue, but that you want to ‘get inside’ me… know me from the inside out. Discover my deepest parts, probe me. Why is that there is ever little adoration involved when discussing sex and only when it is separate?
Maybe it is because our relationship is still fairly new and such sentiments have yet to cement themselves. Maybe we are still in the physical chaotic distraction of a beginning?
I wonder, too, why your priority above all else is pleasuring me. I have told you before that it is not of such importance to me, so why then do you make it your primary goal? Do you think I don’t know how happy you could make me if you made me “cum so much,” as though I do not know myself? Why? Do you think I lie?
I am not a man, Steve. Being able to bring me amazing orgasm does not weigh so much in contributing to keeping me. I realize more and more that being able to achieve orgasm has more to do with my esteem and state of mind than what is done to my body. I think I could maybe even cum from a song or a story.
I appreciate your support in my new sexual exploration. I feel it imperative to remind you that our relationship is, as I mentioned, not so long. To be candid, I was almost… uncomfortable that you want to explore “all these fantasies” together. I want to, also. But only to an extent. I don’t want to deprive myself now that my eyes are opening to a world I didn’t see before. Nor do I want to push you away. I simply felt like you wanted to control this newfound interest. What if there is something I want to experience without you?
Although it piques my curiosity and I know I brought it up myself, I don’t know if I would actually want to wear a strap-on with you… I don’t think that butt play is my cup of tea. I maintain I would like to sometimes play as a man would with a strap-on, but I more had in mind another woman. I can’t feel like a guy if I am doing a guy.
When I visit (six days and counting!), I might like to try tying you up… no handcuffs yet, please. Satin, maybe? Let’s go to the sex shop downtown and browse. I went to one here the other day with that girl I mentioned before, Kim. I got you a present!!!!

Wet kisses,
Christina

Cristina,

I thought we weren’t getting each other anything for Christmas! I can’t wait to see you! I can’t wait to go to the sex shop with you either. I’d like to learn about some new sexual possibilities with you. I am so tired from all the papers I have had to grade. It’s also so exhausting trying to keep the student’s attention, when all they can think about is Christmas vacation. But I find myself pushing the students less as the vacation nears. Instead, I think of spending time with you. I know it sounds so corny, but it is true.

You’re right I tend to be driven more towards the physical side of the relationship right now, where as you look more towards the emotional side. I don’t think that’s any different for any man or woman to concentrate on. I think it is in our basic nature. It is not the only reason I am with you, but it was one of the first ones anyway.

You are so kind hearted and that really attracted me to you. I love the way you can fit in with any situation. You can adapt to any social situation so well. Your writing is so clear and concise. It is brilliant. I find myself hoping that some of your talent with rub off on me. I love how you humor me with your attention at times when I ramble about the stupidiest things.

I wanted to end this letter letting you know, I am open to anything you want. I am even open to you being with others without me being there. I don’t want to hinder you in your sexual discovery. I believe a lot of our “wants” are just fantasies that we don’t ever intend to follow through on. I’m pretty much game to anything. I’m not into having sex with a man, a child, or an animal, but other then that, I’m open to anything.

I babble I know,

See you soon,
Steve


Sweetheart:

It has been forever since I’ve written you and seems only moments ago we were together. Though each minute that passes feels longer than the previous, our time together remains vivid and warm, and does not diminish my longing and ravenous desire to continue rediscovering each other in this new way. I’ve no idea where to begin, but to say that my passion knows no boundary and I feel even more alive after being able to explore your flesh anew, enjoying your fevered caresses, feeling uninhibited in a way I’ve never known before…
Sex is such an aphrodisiac. I hope that the blindfold gift did not disappoint you. I also hope it didn’t turn you off at all that I wanted to control our physical interaction. Putting myself in a position of control creates a feeling of esteem in me that seems to lessen my otherwise passive demeanor. Demanding that you please me orally granted me more freedom to enjoy it. Does this make any sense?
O, Steve, you did please me. I know you know it; I know there is no denying the orgasms that dressed your beautiful face between my thighs… How unfair and hard it is to return and try now to concentrate again on studies that continue to lose my interest!
My distraction is tenfold. I want, when next we are together, to take pictures of our salacious encounters! I imagine they will only intensify. Your cock looked so different to me than I remembered it. Even the feeling of it driving into me felt different – though better than I remembered it!
It seems these letters have only started, yet months have passed and in that time I feel I’ve become more and more a different person than I was. It seems that my new sexual awareness designs another dimension of myself. What will I do without you here to play with? I fear my appetite has sprung and masturbating will not serve to sedate me so well!

Christina


Christina,

I was so happy to receive your email! I’m used to you writing back quite regularly and then I heard nothing from you! I was beginning to wonder if our time together was a disappointment to you. I see that it was not!!

Even though our relationship is still new and forming, I have no problem telling you that I find myself very insecure when it comes to the sexual part of our relationship. There is so much written and told to please a woman and at times it seems so contradictory. I’m finding that (even though it has been written before) that every woman is different and the only sure way to please any woman is to experiment and learn with them. I hope we can do just that.

My favorite sexual moments with you were when you took control. When you guided my head between your legs and commanded me to pleasure you, I was so happy and turned on. I loved feeling your fingers running through my hair and other times tugging hard on my hair as your pelvis slide up and down on my face. Hearing your whimpers of pleasure and encouragement made me wonder if anyone else is as lucky as us. I think, sadly, that the answer is no. I know there are others that are experiencing what we are learning, but too many are afraid to communicate what they want. I’m getting sidetracked here.

I am so glad I met you! I could pleasure you forever; my head nestled between your thighs. It’s amazing the trouble I am having getting my thoughts out consequently. I’m an English teacher! I am left throwing my hands up and saying that the thoughts are more important than anything else.

I want you to know that I am even more interested in you as a person, then the sex. Yes, you are beautiful and yes, you rock my world, but it is being with you and talking with you and not being afraid anymore. Just knowing that you are here for me and me to you is such a great feeling. The way you look at me with such attention when I talk about the not so stimulating conversation of students or about my love for golf. It means so much to know that you care about what is important to me. I don’t know why society says men to like to cuddle. Laying with you in my arms and just holding each other, with or without words makes me never want to move from this spot or the moment.

I miss you so much and hearing from you again, has deepened those feelings. There is so much I want to say and I remember I told you I’d keep the letters short, so….

I’ll keep writing a little more.

As much as I miss you, I want you to make sure you are concentrating on your schooling. Getting you degree and doing what you do so well is the most important thing right now. I’m not going anywhere. You are my sweetest addiction.

I’ll leave you with a little more of what I got out of our winter break together. Did you feel an intense energy flowing through your body and mine like were connected? I did. When we were making love, this connection kept getting more intense each time. When I was pleasuring you below, your juices were so sweet and I felt such an intense energy surge going through my body. I have never felt so strong before.

When you blindfolded me I was so hard it began to hurt. My penis was begging for relief. When you take control, it turns me on so much. It also makes me feel so special. It makes me feel like you want me so much that you are “taking me”. You can take me anytime you want. You can do whatever you want to me.

One last thing and I better let you get back to your studies. When you were on top of me and we were facing each other, with your arms around my neck, that was incredible! I loved feeling your pelvis slowly grinding and your muscles squeezing my penis. I had all I could do not to explode, when you licked my ear and said, “I love fucking you” and proceeded to hug me tightly and grind faster. I’d like to do this position again, except I want us to look into each other’s eyes and get lost in each other.

I miss you and can’t wait to hear from you again.

Yours,
Steve