A Letter From Home

I don't know how long I lay on the couch basking in my own afterglow; relishing the way my pussy felt as it continued to twitch and shudder with smaller and smaller spasms and contractions. My pussy felt relaxed and warm, but the feeling of fulfillment, that paradoxically enjoyable soreness that only comes from being fucked well, was missing; my sexual hunger was not fully satisfied. I was completely soaked with sweat, my teddy stuck to my wet skin and tiny rivulets of sweat ran off of my heaving breasts and into my cleavage before running down to puddle in my belly button. My damp hair clung to my flushed face and goose bumps raced to cover me as the cool air licked at my skin. My nipples glowed a rosy red and were little raw but still semi-hard and tingling. I became aware of the taste of blood and guessed I must have tensed up so much in cumming that I had bitten my lip open. My panties and the couch cushion, plus the towel I had put down, were all thoroughly soaked with my warm slippery juices. I had a fair portion of my panties up inside of me and my pink swollen pussy looked like it was eating them. The vibrator had fallen and rolled under the couch where it idly hummed away. I decided to take one photo of the carnage for you and had to wait to do that until my legs quit being rubbery.

I put on the shirt you wore the day before you left and promptly sat down with the last flute of the champagne to transcribe tonight's events for you in this letter. I cleaned up my pussy as best as I could with my panties, they're sitting here in a bag on the table next to me; inspiration if you will. Not one single thread of those panties is dry and neither is my pussy. I am wearing only your shirt, which I haven't washed since its aroma reminds me of you. I love you and I miss you and all I do is worry about you or want to have you. I dream of you most nights and awake to a longing I usually try to ignore. Tonight I pampered myself, masturbating lewdly while I wanted so desperately to be making love with you, a treat for us both. I fingered myself to three more orgasms while I wrote this letter for you and in fact plan on using some of my juices to seal the envelope. Here is all that I want in return: look at my photos while you read this letter again, touch, smell and taste my panties to fully enjoy me as much as possible from afar, and then wrap your wonderful cock in my silk panties and mix your cum with mine. It should be fairly quick, and powerful, if my panties are still moist-and I hope they are. Place my panties back in the bag and wrap them up in a letter like this and mail them back to me. Photos would be nice too if possible. Fly safe and remember how proud I am of you, my soldier.

Love always, Loretta

P.S. If you are especially nice we can watch the video I made of tonight's extravaganza; together when you get home. I think you will really enjoy it, I know I did.