Author’s Note:
This is an actual letter, word for word, once sent to me by an amazing 32-year-old woman named Jeanine. We had met online when I lived in California and she was in Iowa.
We flew back and forth a couple times and enjoyed an incredible sexual experience together. Jeanine was 5’8″, about 130 pounds, with long dark brown hair, and 34-B breasts.
I guess Jeanine was lonely one night and decided to share her sexual fantasy with me in writing. For what it’s worth, Jeanine had an MBA and was professionally employed at a local university. Yet, her language, her desires, are graphic. She holds nothing back.
I rediscovered this letter and decided to post it because we don’t often see sex from a woman’s point of view on this site. Jeanine and I went our separate ways eventually, but a lovely woman and a giving partner!
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This is my fantasy…
I get home very early on a Sunday morning–just before dawn. Friends and I have
been out dancing and having fun. I’ve had a little too much to drink, not much, but enough to allow me to say things out loud I wouldn’t otherwise say.
My clothes are a bit disheveled from the dancing and from more than one attempt by newly-met dance partners to find out what kind of underwear I have on. I’m feeling happy, and horny, and just a bit sleepy.
I’m wearing all black–my usual out-on-the-town color that I knows draws attention to my pale skin. I can still smell my perfume, mixed with all the sweat from all the activity on the dance floor. I know what my panties must smell like–and I know you know what that smells like, too. But you’re not here. You’re in California.
I think about just climbing into a hot, sudsy bath and relaxing, thinking of other bathrooms, other times when we’ve been together–wet and warm, with your hard cock in my hot pussy, you fucking me from behind with mirrors and candles reflecting our fucking.
But as much as I want right now to be warm and wet, and thinking of you, I think also of climbing between cool sheets and letting the sun come up outside, slowly lighting my bedroom while I drift off to sleep, and to dream. I take off only my black heels and my nubby black sweater and put on the black sleep mask you gave me (originally intended, I think, for other, more rigorous, activities than sleep).
I drift off, immediately beginning to dream about you because I’ve been thinking about lovemaking all evening. Dancing, with its rhythmic movements and the opportunity to touch your partner often, is very erotic to me. My nipples have been hard most of the long evening, rubbing against the inside of my black lace bra and making me long even more to feel you.
In my dream, we are sitting on a couch, watching TV, but I become gradually aware that you’re actually gazing over at me. You unzip your pants and pull out your cock and I watch as your hand slides up and down your hard shaft. We sit like that for a few seconds, me watching you touch yourself, and you watching me.
You know that I can’t ignore your arousal. And deep down, I’m thrilled that it’s my mouth and cunt you want for your cock. As you watch me on the couch, I stick out my tongue, licking my lips, and making sure my mouth is wet and ready to receive you. But before I can do anything, you reach over and put both your hands behind my head–into my hair–and pull me towards you.
My lips circle your cock, my tongue at first tentatively touching just the tip. I know you want me to take you all the way into my mouth, deep into my throat, but I hesitate because I’m savoring your taste, your hardness in my mouth. I’m sucking and licking your cock, harder and harder, sucking your smooth hard cock all the way into my mouth.
You take over the motion then, pulling away from me, but not completely out of my wet mouth, then thrusting in, all the way, like you would thrust yourself into my cunt. You watch me, your hands in my hair, as you fuck my mouth, as you realize I’m getting more and more excited, wanting more and more of this action between my legs.
This dream is too much for me as I sleep. I begin to wake up, turning over onto my back, throwing the covers half off my now-too-warm body. My hands slide down the silky black blouse to the short black skirt I’ve worn to bed. All at once, I’m awake. I am aware that there is something else–someone–in my bedroom. A noise, some movement, a breath of air across my face. I don’t dare remove the eye mask as I’m too scared to move or even breathe.
Then I feel hands pulling the blankets completely away from my body, so that even fully clothed, I feel naked in front of someone–someone who can see me and touch me if he wants, but whom I can’t see. I feel both scared and curious, uncertain as to what will happen next.
The hands that removed the covers are now beginning to touch me. As they touch my ankles, I shiver.. My whole body tenses up; my nipples are hard and ready. Ready for what? I don’t know if I can stop being afraid.
I can smell the man–a musky, sweaty smell, sort of a male version of my own scent. I can smell his sex, which makes me realize my own scent has gotten stronger. My panties are now thoroughly wet–from my dream or from his touch?
He is massaging my feet and the back of my legs, making me think already about his touch between my legs. I begin to relax a little, letting the massage calm my fears and relieve some of my frustration.
Suddenly the man reaches up between my legs, not to touch me as I wanted, but to grasp the garter belt I’m wearing, and in one swift motion, he rips it down my legs, pulling my stockings off with it. I begin to sit up, startled, but he silently presses my shoulders back down onto the bed. His hands remain on my shoulders so that he is on top of me now, and with my bare legs, I can feel his bare skin, as well. He is naked, at least from the waist down, and I can feel the hardness of his cock rubbing against my stomach through my clothes.
At first, I think he will force himself into my mouth, an all-too-real version of my dream. Instead, he moves off of me and his hands begin moving up my legs. I picture the new black lace panties–now so wet from anticipation–that I’m wearing, designed to match my strapless black bra. And, almost ashamed, I picture myself naked except for those garments, with this faceless man on top of me, rubbing his throbbing dick, first against the rough lace of my panties and then between the silk-covered mounds of my breasts. I realize then that I want this man. I want to fuck him. I want to take him between my legs and I want to drain the cum from his prick.
But I’m not in control. He’s taking his time. He’s going to take me in his own time, fuck me in his own way, and he’s not going to let me fuck him like I’m imagining now. At this point, I can’t help myself–I want his hands and his mouth between my legs. I reach down and pull my skirt up around my waist, revealing my see-through panties.
He stops, pausing to watch me try to please him,. entice him, by showing him the thick hair of my cunt through my panties. Wearing the sleep mask, I can’t see his reaction, but I sense that he’s watching me. I touch my panties, the strands of loose pubic hair. I spread my legs and hike my panties up so they are just a thin crease against my pussy, barely covering my opening, but completely uncovering my most sensitive spot. I touch my finger to my tongue, wetting it, before touching myself and leaving a glistening spot to show him. If he even puts the tip of his tongue there, I will most certainly cry out with pleasure.
But he remains silent, watching. I slide my panties down, but keep them on. I wet my middle finger in my mouth, but I take my time so that he knows I enjoy sucking and licking. Then I stick that finger inside my cunt, as far as I can, and I begin to rapidly fuck myself with it, which causes me to raise my hips in rhythm. I want him to go down on me, to kiss my cunt with his mouth, To fuck me.
Finally, he is back on me. He takes my hand away from my pussy and puts them above me. Over my head. Then he flips me over, pulling my panties completely down and off. He wants me. I can tell. His cock hard and ready, rubbing against the back of my spine. I am naked from the waist down and he’s on my back, teasing me with his cock. I feel his breath in my left ear as he whispers exactly what he’s going to do to me.
And then I know, my love, that it’s you, come to fuck me like you haven’t fucked me yet. Your voice is low, but filled with clear desire for wanting me. You finally do what you promised. You order me to get on my knees, but, at first, all you do is touch me. It’s enough to make me come 5 or 6 times almost immediately, but it’s not enough. I’m begging you to please, please, please stick your cock inside me and fuck me.
And then you do–sliding your firm, wonderful, thick, fucking prick inside me, slamming up against me again and again and again. I feel you burst inside me. Exhausted, we collapse on the bed.
This is one of my fantasies.
Is it wrong to feel this way?