return mail...

I have been the recipient of several provocative e-mails from a warm, caring, sensual woman. She is attractive, and apparently has not had the pleasure of sharing a bed with any man in several years. I was propositioned to respond to her messages with a fantasy of my own...

I wonder now, how to began... My attraction for you, my first impression, what enticed me to write was the sight of a woman that I felt could be both serious and fun, hardworking and playful, composed but with a burning desire to be satisfied. Yes I am saying that even looking at that small picture of you, I could see in your eyes (and lips, and hips, and loins...), a longing and a desire to be held, and taken by a man to places that you could not go alone. There is a special feeling of leaving the world behind when surrendering to the passions of sexual pleasure. Exploring the sometimes dark corners of the mind (and body), by throwing open the guarded windows of our souls, feeling safe to expose the imperfect in order to create a moment in time that is so rich in pleasure and satisfaction that all other cares and worries simply melt away and are forgotten.



I wonder of all of my fantasies, how I could began to describe the place or circumstances... a warm summer afternoon, a room with sunlight, and a soft breeze hinting at the smell of autumn. You would be dressed in a light cotton sun dress... buttons down the front... exposing tanned breasts, Bare foot, with a cool dry wine to tickle the senses and calm the nerves. We talk and laugh, touch and stare into one anothers eyes... wondering of the history that has been... and the history not yet written. This is where the words between us no longer matter... our bodies are close... pressing against one another in an embrace... lips meeting... with eyes closing the distractions of the world. There is a smell of... the woman. Kissing the lips, the mouth, tasting the juices and your skin for the first time... letting my head slide beside yours to taste the curve and texture of your neck, pulling your hair slightly back out of my face... my hands are moving slowly... exploring the curves of your waist, your hips and buttocks... squeezing and sliding lightly over the fabric of your dress. This moment... these moments could go on, and on... testing... and tasting... holding, and squeezing... stroking your hair and sucking at your lips and tongue. You let me hold your breasts, and my hands are full... your eyes close with a sigh of pleasure... and you murmur that yes... you want me. Still standing, I reach down below the hem of the dress to touch your leg, and I slowly run my hand up your thigh... and down. Back up, feeling the soft firmness of your legs, I let my hand rub across your mound, still covered by a silky garment that hides a warming, pulsating, and damping pussy. You spread your legs slightly as I let my hand dip between your thighs and there are more moans, and your face is becoming flushed with desire and your breathing a little deeper. Lightly, there is a touch, a movement, a pressure and release that has your legs open wider and your pelvis pushing into my hand. I slip my fingers under the vail to feel the softness of your hairs, the warm dampness below, and my fingers slowly travel the length of your pussy... your hand comes down upon mine... pushing slowly upon my fingers... I let one slip inside of you... yes... you are thinking, and saying, feeling and moving that this feels good, and that you are ready for more...