This letter was written to a girlfriend of mine.
I never sent it to her or told her I fantasized about her. But I thought about her, as you can tell from this story-letter:
I was dreaming about you last night.
It was a bizarre dream, but everything about you is bizarre.
All right, here it goes . . .
At first, I am with Andrew in our home.
We are playing one of our kinky fantasy games, where Andrew is the robber, and he ties me nude to one of my heavy oaken dining room chairs.
I have lost complete control because he has secured me tightly to the chair with some thin black rope.
The passion slowly rises as he tells me to stay quiet, and I feel the ropes around my waist, constricting my wrists, and near my pelvic region.
In fact, one strand of the rope is buried in my vagina, tied their, on purpose, no doubt, by my husband-thief.
He takes a large cotton napkin, folds it into a blindfold, and ties it tightly around my head, covering my eyes.
Andrew, standing behind me now, whispers into my ear, "Ask me to fuck you."
I can feel his breath as it blows the hair by my neck lightly, tickling me and sending a chill down my spine.
Timidly I reply, "Please, don't. Take anything in the house and leave."
My robber-husband gently kisses my earlobe and repeats, "Ask me to fuck you."
He pauses, then says sterner, "Now."
"Okay, take me," I say softly, my words falling from my lips.
His hand cups my right breast, and he is about to say something else.
But the phone rings.
"Don't answer it," I say to Andy, my concentration broken.
He kisses my head, says, "Be right back," and then answers the telephone.
I hear him talking to someone, and, from the sounds of things, it is work-related.
I really don't want him to leave, us not having much time together as it is, but I sense that my husband will be going out of the door any second.
After he hangs up the receiver, he says to me, "I am going to leave you tied up for now.
I think it will build up the suspense until I return.
I have got to go into the office for about an hour.
I will come back and finish what I have started."
In a few minutes, he is dressed and out of the door.
And I am alone, helpless, blindfolded.
As the minutes go by, I find myself thinking about my surroundings.
The house is quiet.
The ropes are tight.
My thoughts drift to when my lover will return.
I wonder what he will do first.
Will he be tender or rough?
Will he talk or be silent?
When will he return?
In about twenty minutes, I hear a key unlocking our front door.
But instead of my husband's voice, I hear yours, Lisa.
I am blindfolded so I do not see your expression, but I feel an uncomfortableness.
You are shocked, I can tell.
"Josette, I guess I came as a bad time."
At that time, I wished I did not give you a spare key to feed the cats.
Sure, I am glad you are comfortable enough to use the key to enter the house (I do not have that many good friends), but I did not want you to see me this way.
"Would you untie me? I am soooooo embarrassed."
"Sure. Just a second."
And I feel you moving closer to me.
"So where is Andy? I assume you are waiting for him."
"He's at work. His 1st Sergeant must have called again.
Trouble with the unit."
You start to loosen the ropes, but your hand touches my skin, and you do something unexpected.
You tighten the ropes.
You go back to the front door and lock it.
You even lock the chain, I hear.
I hear you in the kitchen for a moment, and you return.
You tighten the blindfold and ask if I can see anything.
I lie and tell you that I see nothing, but I can see a little bit from near the bridge of my nose.
You sit on my lap facing me.
I can feel the rough denim fabric from your jeans touching my skin.
I am in ecstasy.
"Pretend I am Andy," you giggle, and you kiss me lightly on the lips.
I hungrily try returning the kiss, but you pull away.
"I am not that easy," you tease.
You then get something off of the table and return.
I cannot see what it is, but I feel a cool (cold!) liquid drip to my nose and lips, my belly and my left breast.
I gasp, then taste the liquid on my lips.
You then start licking the syrup off of my lips, then you kiss my again, this time longer.
Your tongue enters my mouth for the first time.
We are now lovers.
You are careful not to get any syrup on your clothing, but you continue to kiss me.
Your fingers play in the syrup on my stomach, and I feel the syrup start to run down my front and some syrup start to drip from my breast to my left leg.
You lick my breast where the syrup is, stopping the dripping, but deliberately missing a nipple which wants (needs) licking.
"Lick my nipple, damn it," I order, but that only makes you tease me more.
Your breath on my bare moist skin begins to make me cold.
Your tongue circumscribes my nipple; you continue to tease me.
Then you ask, "When is Andy expected back."
Your reply, "Any minute, I suspect."
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