Note to my best friend!

My Dearest Heather,

We have been exclusive for going on 3 years now, and I am in so in love with you that hot embers placed upon my dearest member could not keep me from loving you for even a moment!  I cannot wait for you to come home from work.  I yearn to kiss you for hours on end, and love it when you fall asleep in my arms watching TV at night and carrying you to bed.  You are truly my sole mate and I love you ever more deeply daily.

But that being said I do feel I may need to give you an explanation  about the following which I have written and while you have never asked or questioned me in this area  of our relationship I truly want you to know my every thought and desire.  Yes, this is another one of those notes that are easier for me to write than tell you in person.

Your Love,

Jim

Sweetie, I’m not sure how to start this, but here goes;

You may think, "Is this all he wants out of me, to be something I could never fulfill?  Would no end of ravenous devouring quench him?"  True, I would worship your pussy as much as you would let me.  If you ask for it twice or three times in one day, I can accommodate you.  But it is not my expectation.  I do not need to lick you time and time again until you are raw and throbbing.  I do not require being fed your beautiful fruit each and every day.  I will take what you can offer readily and thankfully.  Like a polite child offered a chocolate bar, I will greedily accept what I am given and try not to beg for more.

Do I love only to eat you?  No!  I love all of you, and I love to take your body in any of the ways you can give it to me. I love making love to you in every single way.  But this way is special to me, deserving of explanation and exposition.  Don't think I don't love every other part of making love, gazing into your eyes, holding your pretty face in my hands, petting and stroking you, admiring every other part of your beautiful body.  I do!  Don't think I don't love our life as best friends, partners, sole mates, our life together, and everything that happens in, and outside the bedroom.  I do!  There are other times and places to explain those feelings though.

You've asked me several times before, wondering at my devotion to lapping at you.  I know exactly why I love eating you.  We were young, my first and only love.  We could do anything, full of youth and excitement at everything.  Our bodies constantly vibrated like tuning forks, frequencies tuned to each other.  We were in my car.  Fooling around like many times before.  In our overprotective intelligence, we didn't fuck, vaginally anyway.  I wouldn't let us. I had a deathly fear of becoming a teenage pregnancy statistic.  Maybe we were being too cautious, but kissing and fondling were the only items on the menu.

And……….. Of course oral sex.  I ate you with a hunger that couldn't be contained.  I was a sexual act waiting to happen, hormones and lust personified.  The closest I would let myself get to the "real thing" was to go down on you. And I did so voraciously.  You were a succulent female fruit; finally open for exploration after all my teenage yearning.  The taste of you was the first taste I had of raw sex.  All my lustful young energy was focused on eating your beautiful pussy for months and months on end, training me to worship your pussy.

I made you come for the first time under my tongue.  The first time *ever*.  I felt like a god.  The surprise you had when your tension was finally released:  your eyes full of wonder.  "This is what it feels like, what everyone's talking about, what I'd been missing?" you asked me.  You hadn't ever masturbated before then.  My mouth had the privilege of being the first to introduce you to the pure pleasure of sex.  My pride was as stiff as my cock.

I remember when we were young and had no homes of our own. In our car on a lonely country road.  Both tired, but neither of us wanted to end the night, to separate to our parent's houses, to end our precious time together.  I had rubbed your shoulders, your body.  You were relaxed, almost asleep. I was languidly kissing and suckling at your vulva while massaging your ass, cupping your cheeks with my hands.  Without any warning at all, you came.  Just like that.  From a state of complete relaxation, almost asleep, you suddenly cried out and grabbed my head as you spammed.  Even you were surprised as it came out of nowhere; I could see the shock and surprise on your face. The pleasure I felt at your instant orgasm filled me, and since I was already so excited from sucking on you, without any stimulation I came also.

Another time I was satisfying you with my mouth. I was slow and my tongue made lazy circles on your clit as I nursed on you.  You came, cradling my head to you in your hands.  Although you came, I had just started and hadn't yet eaten my fill.  I was persistent: I didn't change rhythm, didn't speed up, didn't stop, but just kept gently sucking your pussy, before, during and after your orgasm.  Instead of pushing me off immediately to stop the stimulation on your raw swollen pussy, you relented.  You let me continue, gently stroking my hair. At first, you were quite sensitive, but after a while you relaxed.  Soon, you were bucking your hips against my mouth, trying to satisfy yourself a second time.  And you did, coming once again in my mouth.

I remember these early events in our sex life, very clearly, almost as if it were yesterday.  Every time you came was novel and unique, and burned on my memory like a brand, molding my sexual cravings. I saw that I could bring you pleasure with my mouth, tongue, and fingers, and as a lover I sought your pleasure instead of my own.  I spent many waking moments dreaming of your pussy, and you unconsciously formed part of my being.  Being before you, worshipping at your altar.

Am I a pervert or fetishist for craving to eat your pussy?  Admittedly, it is abnormal.  Normal boyfriends don't appear to go there, visiting only as a perfunctory act when all else has failed.  Nor do most porn actors and actresses, focusing instead on the almighty cock, apparently setting normal sex acts by example to the hoards of men who watch it.  So many tales about girlfriends of yours who would love to be licked, waiting in silent desperation yet complaining to their friends about their uneaten pussies.  Their husbands are more than happy to feed their wives their cocks, and they distain from returning the favor.  Maybe once a year on her birthday, Christmas maybe, they can muster up the courage.  All those unsatisfied women, who can't or won't beg their husbands to lick them.  Even if they could, they would almost certainly be rebuffed.  Yes, I am different.  I can't imagine that selfishness.  I don't think of that place being dirty or smelly.  I live to be a slave to your pussy.  I can't wait to service you.  I am abnormal in this way, so in my abnormality I must be a pervert by definition.

You call it my lick fantasy.  It is one of the earliest fantasies I've shared with you, simply where you lay back with wide spread legs and let me tease you, lick you, suck you, tongue you, as long as I want.  And I take hours, reveling in the act, tickling every surface of your pussy and your clit with my tongue.  Sucking and slurping and spreading and stretching your lips, gently clasping them between my own.  You let me continue as long as I want, laying back and absorbing the pleasure.  I'm not unnecessarily teasing you, but reveling in your femaleness.  This fantasy is one of many, the first and most basic, most primal.  I have many, many ways to dream about going down on you.  In my fantasies, you are always greedy.  You take, take, take, receiving everything my mouth can dish out.  And you never ask.

You have a long day at work, and you come home frustrated and exhausted.  You're wearing a business suit with a skirt. You open the door, and almost thoughtlessly, like reflexively getting a cold beer after a hard day, you sit on the couch and hike up your skirt.  You look at me, expectantly, wordlessly. I know what to do to calm you down.

You come home from jogging or biking.  Heavy exercise, sweaty exercise. You are salty and musky, ripe and fragrant.  Your pull down your shorts, revealing yourself to be swollen, hot, and moist with sweat.  Before you shower, you beg me to clean you off.

It's the middle of the night.  Two or three in the morning.  Everything is dead silent; I’m asleep beside you.  You can't sleep, and you're horny.  Without thinking about it, without worrying about depriving me of sleep or startling me, you wake me by clamping your pussy over my mouth.  I wake up with my face full of you, and you use me as your personal vibrator to bring yourself off so you can sleep.

We're in a movie theater, almost empty but not quite. I'm focused on the movie and not you.  The movie has made you hot and bothered, and you scoot down in your seat, sliding up your skirt.  You insistently nudge my head downwards, until I understand and am between your legs as the movie plays on.

We're having a dinner party.  Our friends arrive in 15 minutes, and you urgently beg me to service you, *right now*!  We sneak off to the bathroom, and I obediently devour you.  You come for me, just in time for the doorbell.  Now that you're finished, you quickly pull up your panties and pants and nonchalantly answer the door.  All the while I'm rushing to wash your pussy juice off my face and desperately trying to suppress my giant erection so I can greet our friends.

I want you to rub my face in it.  Not daintily dabbing my face like a cotton ball.  Using your spread lips as a washcloth to wipe down my face. Pretending your pussy is a sander, and you are trying to grind off my nose.  Or that my nose is a pencil, and your pussy hole is a pencil sharpener. I want to breathe only your pussy, and your moisture to coat my face.

There are many variations of fantasies like this.  You are demanding of your worshipful slave.  Silent because the expectation is understood, you don't need to ask.  No reciprocation is required.  You've overcome your timidness in getting what you want; understanding my lust for your pussy is real and constant.  You feel no compulsion to be polite, not callous but cavalier, you know there is no requirement for build-up on my part, and no possible way you could ever be rejected.  You have an urge that must be satisfied, and I am always ready and waiting to taste your female flesh.

I have no way of knowing your natural desired frequency for the act; I’m always insistently begging you to sit on my face.  I don't know how much you would need it if I wasn't there to ask.  I would hope that you too would crave it often.  Please understand these words are real.  They is not an elaborate parable for making you feel good about your body or your "dirty bits", even if they may have that effect.  If you have a hunger for my tongue, even if a fleeting thought crosses your dirty mind, would that you overcome your shyness and demand it, knowing that my heart would leap for joy in pleasuring you.

Am I eating just a pussy attached to a body? Will, Any pussy do? Is it,….An object?  I'm pleasuring you, my lover.  Your pussy isn't just a thing I use to satiate my lust; it's a gateway to your soul.  My carnal caresses are the most primal way I can connect to you.  I seek your orgasm, and through it, I connect to the core of you.

I wish there was an equivalent of deepthroating for a pussy.  An act of special sexual athleticism, requiring repeated training to overcome one's body's limits of which you are a gold medalist!  I would practice and perfect my pussy deepthroating skills, taking you deeper until I could do it without choking or gagging. Unfortunately, there is not. I want to become an expert, to understand your pussy like no other. This is the best I can offer instead.

The experience of having my face buried in your warm pink wetness is heavenly. I adore the way your pussy looks: your lips are the petals of an exotic flower, meant to be opened and stroked, tended to by your gardener.  You know I love your scent; you often catch me cupping my hand to my face afterwards to concentrate the remaining whiffs of your perfume off my beard and my fingers.  A wonderful aroma I can't resist, like the fragrance of a flower designed by nature to attract bees.  I love to taste your honey.  To lick it off my fingers when I'm finished. I love the cries and moans you make, the little signals letting me know where I am when navigating you, like an audible map to your pussy's pleasure zones.

If I am ever flagging, limp, not stiff enough to penetrate you, here is the cure.  Let me press my face into your flower, deeply draw in your scent, suckle at your clit.  Let me suck you off, and you can restore me to a rock hard piston instantly.

Have I said too much?  Is this too personal, too single-minded, and too raw?  I apologize for inadvertently offending you with my seemly constant focus on sex.  I am a man with a high sex drive.  Testosterone pumps my lust for you nearly non-stop.  Despite my ability to function as a normal member of society, to perform complex tasks, to hold down a job, to walk, talk, and chew gum, I think of it all the time.  Regardless of whether I'm with you or you’re absent, I often think of kneeling before you, pulling down your pants, and satiating you. That's why you are safe in approaching me at any time; I've probably been already thinking about it within the last five minutes.

Your loving and admiring Pleasure Boy ;)

Jimmy

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

To my Dearest “Pleasure Boy!”

(OMG, you are too funny)

Jimmy,

You are too much!  Honey………..I relish your notes, though seldom, when I receive your thoughts in the written word my heart just leaps and flutters like the first time we kissed.  I have read and re-read your letter at least 5 times since you fell asleep here next to me.  All I can say is Yes!  I do truly love you also, more and more each and every day.  I often catch myself at work, staring out the window, just thinking,  guessing, and imagining what you may have laying in wait for me when I get home.  I apologize for being so tired arriving home from a hard day’s work.  Though working for my brother is a godsend, the family business is still trying and the commute seems longer these days.

But………..To arrive home to your kind smile and a warm home cooked meal does wonders to a girl’s soul.  So…..before I go on much further, I just totally love, adore, crave, can’t get enough of the attention you give my pleasure zone…hehe.  LOL, Jimmy, you totally blow me away as to what you do to me!  First of all, you’re not a pervert, nor a fetishist, you just are totally a very gifted man, and I just love being eaten, played with, and devoured by you!  I could just stop here.  For instance sweetie, the other night when it took me almost twice as long to get home, I walked in and you greeted me with your kind smile, and a luscious kiss and a slight cup of my breast.  Dinner was simple, and then you had me recline on the sofa and relax while you went to draw me a bath.  Oh, how I love the start of these evenings!  I apologize for being so tired lately but work has been overwhelming lately, but I will make it up to you this weekend, hehe!  Apparently I fell asleep in the few minutes it took to draw the bath, because the next thing I knew I was in your arms, halfway up the stairs, your strength always surprises me.  Well, I am always amazed at how we read each other’s minds.  Let me tell you something my dear, I just love your strong hands and fingers.  You are both strong and gentle.  Most of all, you are a mind reader!  As I lowered myself in the bath and lay there a few minutes while the bubbles tickled my skin, you casually sauntered in and started to caress my head.  Gently behind my ears, and massaging my neck.  You took your hand and gently lowered it into the water and cupped my left breast as you knelt down to gently kiss me.  You know how I love to kiss, and I know how you love to kiss and where it can eventually lead!  While our tongues gently caressed each other your hand fondled my tit, nearly sending me to orgasm right there.  Instinctly, your fingers in an ever, and predictable manner sauntered down to my navel and eventually the edge of my pussy.  In the ever increasing passion of our increased and ravenous kissing, I now had both of my hands pulling your face and lips ever so tightly onto mine, and we were absolutely devouring each other.  While so your fingers started gently caressing my pussy lips, almost as if you were teasing me.  At times I think you do tease me, actually I know you do!  Slowly working your fingers towards my clit bud, and making ever so gentle and soft circles around the whole general area, I came, geeze, you almost made me cum when you were playing with my tit.  But, no you didn’t stop there; you let me recover then proceeded to rub my entire body in the most seductive way.  Finishing with a soft kiss on my forehead allowing me to finish my bath before retiring to bed.  Once in bed yes we do often continue, but you knew I was tired and we fell asleep in each other’s arms.  A perfect ending to a trying day with the perfect man.

Now,  Babe!  You can eat my pussy and dam time you want to!  Holy Crap!  A girl could not ask for anything more…….you’re the least selfish person I know, putting other’s needs before yourself, and since I know how much you love it, it just makes me love it that much more.  If I shared with anyone how sweet, cute kind, quiet Jimmy was when it was “Game On”!  My girlfriends would be knocking down the door!  You just keep doing what you’re doing, and “Anything” else you want to do, and I do mean “Anything” and we will be just fine!

Since you will be reading this after I am gone to work, I will be anxiously be awaiting what you have in store for me tonight, It is Friday, so I will be home early!

You’re Best Friend that has never been in love as much as I am this very moment!  And I assume I/we will be even a little more in love at the end of this weekend!

Heather XOXOXO