Love Letter To My Husband

Love Letter To My Husband

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance


Status: Finished

Genre: Romance



Love letter from wife to the husband on the eve of their wedding.



Love letter from wife to the husband on the eve of their wedding.


Submitted: May 24, 2016

A A A | A A A


Submitted: May 24, 2016



Love Letter To My Husband




Dear Husband To Be;

I had imagined this moment so many times in my mind, that I can’t believe it; you are standing right here in front of me. The perfect creation God has created for me. You are just as I had pictured you . . .  six feet six inches, 300 lbs, pecan tan complexion, bald, goatee, hazel brown eyes, full lips, and a devilish smile that makes me melt.

When you walked into the room, your presence commanded everyone’s attention; no man stood a chance. You greeted everyone like an old friend or as an acquaintance you met once before but had forgotten their names. Every woman in the room was trying to grab your attention but your bedroom eyes were fixated on me. And mine were locked in on your bulging man package as you continued to make your way towards me.

You reached out your hand and asked with a deep rich baritone voice, “Would you like to dance?” My whole insides turned to mush when you spoke, good thing I was wearing a panty liner with my thong.  We slow danced very close while everyone watched but we didn’t care, it was our song, the latest by Johnny Gill. Gazing into each other’s eyes, there was a spell which can only be broken once the music stops. This brings to mind, a time in our relationship when we had a little spat; and our relationship was in question. Dancing with each other was the start of our so- called reconciliation.

“Baby, I missed you this week,” you stated.

“Oh really, well I missed you too,” I said.

We had a fight which was more like a verbal assault.  I walked out of our apartment and stayed at a hotel until I was ready to talk to you again. I wouldn’t have been at this formal event dancing with you, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were the guest of honor and I had been asked to introduce you. But seeing you in your tuxedo, looking delicious like a tray of sweet candied yams on Thanksgiving – what was a woman to do? Ignore temptation or give in to the sinfulness of your gorgeousness? You tell me.

“Honey, you know we need to talk about last week, we made a promise to never go to bed angry or to let an argument go to long without resolving it. We promised each other, remember?” you asked innocently.

“Yes I remembered, but I was very hurt and needed time for my temper to get back under control,” I stated.

We stared at each other, while our bodies swayed with the music. You whispered a sweet confession in my ear that made me weak in my platform stilettos. If you weren’t holding me, I would have been on the floor like a glammed up puddle of goo. 

“Are you ready to go home?” I asked.

Holding me closer so I could feel the bulge, I had my answer. Slowly, I guided us out the side door of the ballroom.

The night’s chilled air greeted us like an old friend. Your arms wrapped around me like the cozy faux mink throw blanket on our bed. I knew what you had in mind when I felt your hand gazed across my hardened nipple. As we approached the limo door, you motioned to the driver not to come over, you got the door; you pulled me even closer and kissed me like I had never experienced before.

“WOW! That kiss was different. Why come?” I stated. Yes, I knew it was improper grammar, but I was caught off guard. You laughed at my question but didn’t answer. 

“Get in,” you said.

As we got comfortable in the limo, you told the driver to take the longest route home he could find. Yep, I knew I would be in for it now. You pushed the button for the blacken partition. Looked over at me like a crack fiend getting ready to go to town on his crack pipe.

 “Come here, you need to get out of this dress.”

 "Oh I do?” I asked.

 “Yes, you do, and I’m going to help you,” you stated.

 Slowly you slid your hands down my back to unzip my dress. I could feel your muscular hands on my back. The closer I was to you the more your bulge grew. My treasure box was throbbing with anticipation of what was about to happen. We kissed with passion, sexiness and rawness we’ve never had before the fight. 

“Man oh man! Oh how I do love how we makeup after a fight,” I thought to myself. 

The limo hit a pothole which broke our rhythm for a brief moment, but it was long enough for you to take off your tuxedo jacket and shirt; and for me to slip the dress off onto the limo’s floor. 

“Oh, you wore the baby blue bra and thong set I gave you on our last trip to Belize. I really love this color on your skin,” you stated. 

A smile came across my face as you kissed me on my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my lips, my neck, down my cleavage, down my stomach, down to the top of my treasure’s mound. You slipped your fingers under the thong to take it off; you placed your face at the door.  Your breath was hot and seductive, as you tried to remember the combination needed to unlock the treasure box.  Little did you know there was no need to unlock it.  I had already unlocked it for you, ‘cause feeling your lips on my lips was more than I could take.

 “Hmm, seems like someone left the faucet dripping,” you said.

“Well, what can I say, that’s what you do to it,” I responded.

“Guess I’m going to have to get my tools out and tighten things up a little.”

“Ok, but not too tight, you know what to do to stop the drips,” I stated.

You went to respond, but I cut you off and told you to get to work; you weren’t being paid by the syllables. We both laughed and then out of nowhere I was arching my back and clutching the leather seat for dear life.

“You sneaky bastard,” was all I could get out as I started to feel the orgasmic faucet turning on full blast. As it reached its fullest point, the explosion over took me and you, because this was the first time I sprayed you orgasmically. I heard about and saw women who were squirters, but damn, I didn’t think I would be added to that list. 

“Damn, babe where did that come from?” you asked. Guessing by the expression on my face, you let it go. You looked me in my eyes and gently kissed me on my lips as to say it was okay, don’t be ashamed. It was the most beautiful, sexiest moment we have shared.  We have shared a lot of moments but this one is right up there.

 As I looked into your eyes, I felt the thickness of your rod inside me. It was throbbing and pulsating, like it wasn’t sure what to do to top off what had just occurred moments ago. We both took a moment to breath and,  to relax our bodies then slowly we began to catch a rhythm, a rhythm like a beautiful ballet act full of grace, precisionly executed movements with each gyration of our hips. We’ve always been sexually in sync with each other.  I can’t remember the last time we’ve ever been out of sync.

Nothing felt better than being the center of his desires, not to mention having him between my legs- - okay maybe a good slice of homemade red velvet cake. On second thought, naaahhhhhh! This was the best feeling. As we started to pick up speed, I could feel him getting ready to explode and I’m was about to cum for the third time. He lifted up my hips, so that he could go deeper with each thrust; my baby was about to burst like crazy. He only grabbed my hips when it was his time to shine and with one swift thrust as well as the limo hitting a pothole at the exact moment, he blew like he hadn’t been blown in weeks.

“WOW!!” he yelled. “Oh my goodness, you really made me work for this didn’t you?”

“No, I did no such thing,” I replied. “It’s all in your mind.”

“You always say that,” he giggled.

Lying there in the afterglow, neither of us wanting to move, I could feel his rod slowly reducing in length with the thickness remaining behind. I’ve always loved how his rod’s thickness and length filled me up as well as fit so easily.

 “Guess we need to resolve our debate,” I asked.

 “Yes, I suppose we need to but do we really?” he asked back.

 “You really hurt my feelings.”

 “I know. You hurt my feelings too.”

 “How could you ever think that of me?” I questioned.

 “It was in the heat of the moment when I said that, I didn’t mean it,” he stated.

“People always speak their true feelings in the heat of an argument. So some part of you did mean.”

“Well, even if I do feel that way, I am truly in love with you no matter what the gossip circle says.”

“Gossip circle? What gossip circle?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. Just then the limo stopped.

We both peeked up to look out the window and realized we would be home, once the limo went through the red light. We started getting dress and cleaned off the seats the best we could. Then we collected the condom wrapper and used condom. By the time we reached the front gate of our complex, the driver was tapping on the partition to get our attention. You let the back window down and told the security guard to allow us entry.

The limo pulled up to our front walk way. You reached for the limo door and got out and then I followed.  While you were paying the limo driver, I stood on the stairs. As I glanced at you a thought came across my mind, about how over the years we have had more good times than bad, which felt so weird to me because it was almost like we were living a fairytale, but it was real.

Sometimes, I think we were so much alike with few differences, that perhaps somewhere during this relationship we concentrated on making each other happy and forgot to be ourselves until we had a disagreement.

You walked over to me with a smile on your face.

“And why are you smiling? Did the driver just give you a hot tip or something?”

“No. The driver just told me that we weren’t the first couple he had in the back of his limo to have makeup sex,” you stated. 

“Well I hoped you collected his ticket money,” I said.

“You know I did,” we both laughed. It’s our own private joke. We joked about how if anyone saw us making out or getting extra romantic in public; we’d charge a fee for viewing the moment.

There is so much I remembered about our journey to get to this day. As I am preparing to see you later today at the altar, I just wanted to take a moment to write down how much I love you, and perhaps one day, maybe, on our one year wedding anniversary I will share this letter with you my dear soon to be husband of four years.


Love you ‘til life and death do us part. . .

© Copyright 2019 Sonya Felice Jenkins. All rights reserved.

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