Carla's letter
Dear Lori,
Well, babe, you said to write back quickly, so here it is.
Wow, you don't mess around, do you? 16 pictures! (Actually,
I
hope you DO mess around. And I want to do it with you!) We could
argue over who has the better body, but why waste the time?
Lori,
I'm going crazy over yours. Your tits are just the right
size for
me, and your nipples look delicious. Now I'm looking
at your ass
and wishing my lips were planting soft kisses all over your
cheeks. Do you like to have your ass kissed? Your first photo
hinted at the cuteness of your face, but it certainly didn't
do
you any justice. And I REALLY like the photos of you oiled
up,
too. You look so sexy that way. Wouldn't it be fun to
get oiled
up together and make beautiful love? Oh what I'd give
to rub my
body against yours!
I know what you mean about typing with one finger. That's
how
I typed the first letter I sent you. I think I write sexier
that
way. Luckily, I have a computer, so I can go back and correct
the
mistakes. But don't worry about yours. The mistakes
show me how
excited you are. And I want you to be excited. Today I'm
wearing
my Joni's Butterfly, so I can use both hands. But I can
tell
already that I won't be able to make it through all of
this
without an orgasm break.
Yesterday was such a bummer for me. I found your anxiously-
awaited letter in my mailbox, but my husband and kids were
around
all day. I wanted so much to spend time poring over your letters
and photos. And I had such a need to write to you. I was
constantly aware of the wetness between my legs. Finally,
when
the kids were down for their nap, I told my husband I was going
to take one, too. He winked and offered to help, but I begged
off
with fatigue. Then I locked myself in the bedroom and spent
an
hour and a half masturbating over you. Lori, you've
really
excited me! And don't worry about my husband. You primed
me
pretty well for some rousing fun with him last night.
I wish I could have been a fly on the wall to watch you bring
yourself to orgasm. It's nice to know someone else
who admits she
appreciates masturbation as much as I do. You know how secretive
girls are about that. Even some of the bi girls I've
known
wouldn't admit they masturbated. I'll never
figure that one out.
You'd think that would be an easier taboo to overcome
than
bisexuality. My college roommate and I use to sit in chairs
facing each other while we masturbated and talked dirty
to each
other. That was always exciting to me. I like to watch my
lovers
masturbate, and I was even fortunate enough to see a couple
of
girls do it when they didn't know I was watching. Anyway,
we'll
have to compare notes.
I loved the story about you and Karen. It's fun to imagine
it
happening. And it's fun to picture what you must have
looked like
at 15. Probably because of my background, teenaged girls
will
always turn me on. But enough of that. You were curious about
my
first time.
My first experience with sex of ANY kind was at fourteen.
My
sister was sixteen, and she'd just returned from her
first date.
(I think we started dating a lot later than you, Lori.) I'd
been
curious about cocks for a couple of years, and I'd certainly
felt
the empty, tingling feeling between my legs. But other
than
squeezing my thighs together, I did nothing and knew nothing.
And
I'd been envious of Kathy's big breasts for quite
awhile, too.
(Mine were just little buds.) But I can't say I had any
sexual
feelings for her or her breasts.
At any rate, I'd lain awake waiting for her return because
her
first date was exciting for both of us. Under the covers
and in
the dark, she whispered all the little details. Unbeknownst
to
me, however, she was playing with her pussy while telling
me her
exciting story. All of a sudden, in the midst of the petting
"struggle" at the park, she stopped and was
lost in her first
orgasm. I had no idea what was going on and was afraid that
something terrible was happening to her. She kept me from
getting
Mom for help (Wouldn't that have been something!?),
then told me
all about what had happened, how good it felt and what caused
it.
I tried. It felt nice enough, but it certainly wasn't
a big
thing for me.
Kathy came over to my bed to show me how. I still remember
every single second of that night, Lori, and the emotions
each
one carried. The first touch of her fingers on my pussy was
the
most glorious moment of my life. I soared. I loved it. And
I can
feel those same feelings today as though it just happened.
(I've
since learned that a man's touch is very different
from a
woman's. I like the firm, strong touch of a man, but
the soft,
sensual touch of a woman is special.)
She told me how exciting it was to have a boy squeeze your
breasts (outside your clothes, of course!). As I became
more and
more excited, I fondled the spongy orbs I'd envied
for so long.
What a thrill: the softness, the fullness and the obvious
pleasure it gave her. It seemed natural to kiss and suck
them,
and I did both while I humped against her hand. Her big, hard
nipple was in my mouth when I moaned through my first orgasm.
That was the beginning, and I could write two pages on the
beautiful feelings of that first time.
I really feel fortunate about all of this. Most of my friends
took years to learn how to orgasm. But with Kathy's
hand and
words of encouragement and reassurance (I got scared when
I
started to lose control) I was able to learn right away.
Today I
orgasm easily and often. In college I became multi-orgasmic.
We were two very horny young ladies, thrilled with discovery
and the wonderful, delicious feelings of being naughty.
Over the
next few weeks we progressed to breast play, mutual masturbation
and finally pussy licking. I flipped out over having my
pussy
licked. Kathy did it to me first, and I went through the ceiling.
I could hardly wait to return the favor. What a wonderfully
sensual feeling!
Today I simply love to lie between a woman's thighs
with the
smooth wetness of her cunt around my tongue and lips as I
gaze up
between her breasts to watch her passion. At any rate, it
was a
heady time. We were at each other every chance we could safely
do
so. We thought up all kinds of games to play, and even
experimented with fruits and veggies.
(I knew I was going to get in trouble, Lori. My pussy is
practically dripping with excitement. I've taken
my shirt off to
sit on so I don't stain the chair. The vibrations are
up on my
Butterfly, and I'm back to typing one-handed. My breasts
and
nipples wanted too much attention. I'm afraid I may
have to take
that orgasm break before long. This letter might take forever!)
Our little brother was two years younger than I. (I guess
he
still is, isn't he?) His cock had been a fixation for
me ever
since I was twelve. I didn't know why. I just knew I was
constantly curious about it. When we were wrestling, I
could
sometimes feel it--and sometimes feel it hard. I was forever
trying to catch him in the act of dressing or undressing
so I
could see it. And I was always trying to spy on him when he
was
in the bathroom. But he was always so private that I couldn't
see
it--which, of course, made me want to see it all the more!
As I began to develop, I began teasing him to see if I could
make it hard. I'd sit so he could see my panties or stand
in
front of the light so he could almost see through my nightie.
Sometimes I'd leave my door open when I changed clothes,
then act
surprised and mad when he saw me partially naked. Or I'd
leave
the bathroom door cracked when I took a shower in case he
wanted
to peek.
It was exciting to watch his reactions. Part of the thrill
was
testing out my powers as a young woman. It seems he had a hard-on
all the time, and I knew I frequently caused it. Sometimes
I'd
stand outside his bedroom door and listen to him jerk-off.
Of
course, I didn't know what he was doing, but it was something
he
wasn't suppose to do. And that made it more exciting.
(That's it. I can't take this any longer. Time
for a break!)
(Well, it's another day. One orgasm wasn't enough
yesterday.
And after the second, I was too wiped out to continue. Today
I
thought I'd try one of my soft dildos while I type. There's
no
vibration, but I like the fullness. This is fun, getting
naughty
with you, Lori.)
Well, back to the story. After about six months of playing
around with each other, Kathy and I decided to get Scott.
By then
she'd touched her boyfriend's cock when they'd
made out, and
she'd told me all about it. I'd told her about Scott,
too, so
we'd both been teasing him. And she told me what he was
doing in
his room. One night Mom and Dad were gone, so we put our plan
into action. We really teased him that night while we watched
TV.
We wrestled with him in our nighties so he could "accidentally"
touch us, and we really sat "sloppily." Then,
when he went to
bed, we waited outside his door until we heard the bedsprings
squeaking.
At that, we rushed in and turned on the light. Sure enough,
he
was laying on his back, his hand wrapped around his little
pecker. You should have seen his face, Lori! At first he
was
really mad at us, but Kathy got him calmed down and told him
we'd
take all our clothes off for him if he'd show us what
he was
doing. I was so hot from just seeing his cock that all I could
do
was stand there and shake. God, it was so exciting! After
we
watched him pump himself for awhile, Kathy said she'd
let him
touch her breasts if she could touch his prick. I could take
that
for only so long before I had to get into the act. Kathy showed
me how to jerk him off, and I made him shoot all over the place.
Now that I really loved! And at that age, of course, they
never
get soft, so we kept playing until we heard Mom and Dad drive
in.
As long as we lived at home, the three of us had each other
for love, comfort and fun. Eventually we taught Scott how
to play
with us and eat us, and we learned to suck him off. That's
where
we drew the line, but we had hours and hours of loving fun.
I
like to think Kathy and I taught Scott how to be a superior
lover, but I suppose I'll never know. Once each of us
left home,
the subject never came up again.
The only feelings I've ever had about all of that are
Good and
Wonderful. I've read where incest is suppose to make
people feel
dirty and become anti-social. It's hard for me to relate
to that
because I did well in school, was popular and never felt
dirty at
all. No one will ever convince me that what we did was wrong--
it
was too good to be bad. It brought us closer together, and
there's always been lots of love. Although we agreed
to stop at
oral sex, I'll admit I wanted Scott in me very badly.
I wanted
him to take my virginity; I still think it would have been
better
and more loving if he had. But I'll admit I don't
think about the
social issues anymore. I've spent half my life worrying
about my
sexuality and the other half saying, "Who cares?"
What I do in my bedroom is my business. I know I don't
fit any
of the "This Is A Woman" molds. By any standard
I've ever seen,
I'm definitely over-sexed. I have strong exhibitionist
tendencies, which fits the mold. But I'm also very
visually
oriented, and have a strong voyeuristic streak, as well.
That
doesn't fit the mold. Sexual guilt is almost foreign
to me, and
I'm more drawn to adventure than security in sexual
matters.
So I don't know where I fit in, but I don't worry
about it too
much. I know that other than the emptiness and loneliness
of life
without a woman since I've been married, I've
had a much richer,
fuller and happier sex life than most women ever will.
That first incident with Scott began my life-long obsession
with cocks. I'm an inveterate crotch watcher, wondering
what's
behind the zipper, what it looks like, how it feels and things
like that. Each size and shape has it's own special
attraction,
but I love them all. I love the way they look, the way they
feel
in me, on me and in my hand and mouth. I love their taste and
their texture. And I love their warm cum in my mouth or on
my
face and breasts. One of my favorite fantasies is to be naked
on
my knees, surrounded by 5 or 6 naked sixteen or seventeen
year-
old boys. I could go around the circle, giving each a nice,
long
suck; then lie back and watch them jerk off until they splash
hot
cream all over my body. I know my chance of ever having that
happen is gone, but oh, do I love the fantasy!
As bitter as I sometimes get with my husband's closed-
mindedness about bisexuality, I'm grateful for his
understanding
of my love of cocks. Every once in awhile he arranges a 3-some
with another man. Have you ever done that, Lori? Those are
such
wonderful times for me. The "discovery" of
a new cock. Two cocks
to play with. And the devoted attentions of two men. I always
feel so female and so special. And I love my husband all the
more
for it.
Well, another book and still not enough questions asked
of
you. I can't believe how good it feels to be able to talk
like
this with someone. Maybe now that I've blurted all
of this out we
can move on to a better correspondence.
Write soon, Lori.
Horny for you,
Carla
|
|
