Love Letter

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Reverie the morning after phone sex.
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Well, the same thing happened after our conversation. I dozed and drifted for a half hour more after we hung up, talking to you and then realizing you had already said "Goodnight", and then talking to you again in my dream-fog, until I finally forced myself to get out of the chair and go to sleep. I slept straight thru ... not even waking to pee in the middle of the night. What an extraordinary effect you have on me!.

Now I'm wearing the rayon material you designed and gave me for a sarong. When I put it on this morning I wondered what it will be like to have you dress me in this "silky" material for over 2 weeks straight. I imagined waking each day and having my clothes laid out for me: the silky underclothes, the silky blouse and skirt you want me to wear. I imagine, when you are not wearing the pants you kept from your father and your husband, that you are walking around naked, so I see your pussy all the time, you and I both knowing how much I want to lick and suck it all the time ... and being amazed at my insatiable desire, my lust. How can it be that, after 45 years of experimenting with every and any thing a man and woman can do together, the "girl of my dreams: turns out to be an 80 year old widow with two sons just 10-15 years younger than me.

Objectively my intellect knows your body does not meet the social standard of "sexy". I have certainly seen your vagina often enough over our 4 years, and I've seen vaginas in general for over 50 years, and you know if I had the opportunity to design an ideal female body your huge breasts would be smaller and ...... well, all that is so totally irrelevant, because my feelings for you just completely overwhelm me, and your 80 year old body fills me with such lust, such desire, I just look at your vagina and feel myself going crazy with lust as my objective mind laughs at me, and my erotic mind laughs back at it.

Actually, I can picture every part of your naked body, most especially when you are just standing or walking around naked ... no "sexy" poses, not reclining in bed, ... there's something about seeing you standing around just so normal ...

(I feel this same desire for any part you offer me ... I would make some poetic reference to your body as a bowl of fruit of all different shapes and sizes and flavors and textures, but then I start thinking about Carmen Miranda's fruit-bowl hats from those old movies and I start laughing at myself)

Its like I'm a starving man, and even though I thought I preferred one kind of food, when I am offered what "cook" I go absolutely crazy and can't eat enough of it. I guess I'm just like your loving husband. When he was alive he, too , thought your were such a wonderful cook, no matter what you made. I just transfer your "cooking" from the kitchen to the bedroom (or porch or sofa or kitchen chair or any convenient surface). I just can't get enough of your cunt, your gash, your slit, your hole, your snatch, your pie, your pussy, your vagina, your honeypot, your penis, your dick, your prick, your cock, your tool, your rod, your ... oh my god, iI think I DO love you.

So, here I am, having already burned my breakfast once, still typing to you, writing "I want to suck your cunt" over and over and over, like a bad student being punished after school. (Hmmmm. You did say you liked that image of yourself as the teacher with the ruler, and I am the classic "bad boy".)

Yes. This morning I am in love with that word "cunt". It is so graphic, so obscene, so powerful. I want it in my mouth. I want my mouth around it. I want my tongue in it. I want to feel it pulse and splash and soak and grip and grab and squeeze and shudder and entirely devour me: my penis and my tongue and my nose and lips and toes and fingers and every part of me.

Pussy is such a soft word, but cunt is hard and solid and devouring and that is what I want. I want to worship your cunt, kneel down before it, place my head under it, submit to it, be overpowered by it.

Your pussy is your sweet, enfolding vagina, but your cunt is your hard penis, your erection. Your clit is the same as mine: just a place held up on your wonderfully hard, firm cunt as you slide it into my mouth and fuck my mouth with it.

Your cunt holds your velvet tunnel and your pee hole and your clit and all the wonderful surrounding folds we both like me to play with. Just like my cock, your cunt is the delivery system. It is your organ of pleasure and desire, and I am overwhelmed and completely conquered by yours! I fall before it and beg to just be allowed to touch it even just with the tip of my tongue. Just thinking about whether you will allow me to touch it that way is torture.

I want to enter into the dark, mysterious swamp of your cunt and feel that wet, sucking swamp transform into a great breaking wave of pure ocean that drowns me in my overwhelming desire and its ever-whelming wholeness and the eternal power of its ebb-and-flow, each orgasm you have another wave hurled upon my shore, over and over again for all eternity.

Oh, PLEASE......

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