by Angel Devlin
I began to read the letter again. Then I discarded it on the bed as I closed my eyes, letting my imagination take over.
My fingers swept my clit as I imagined the mysterious Mr. X having dragged up my gown to find me wanting and wet.
I placed two fingers together and imagined they were his cock, pushing them inside my wet core and thrusting my hips upward.
Though I was so very close, something was missing, and I realized I wanted to be against the wall, acting out this fantasy as close to reality as I could get.
Climbing out of bed almost in a sexual frenzy, I stood against my bedroom wall, pulling my pajama top up a little so I could feel the cold of the wall against my back, imagining it was the bare flesh exposed by my low-cut dress. I closed my eyes and fucked my fingers. My back pushed against the wall as my excitement grew. I placed a finger from the other hand against my clit and rubbed, exactly as the letter said. Then I was coming—hard—over my hand, and a groan escaped me. I was powerless to stop it because I was coming harder than I ever remembered coming before. I felt like a puddle of goo and I headed for my bed, closing my eyes and letting sleep overcome me.
Chapter Five
Finn
I heard the clatter of the mail and then what sounded like an elephant running to the front door. For a small woman, Ella sure made a lot of noise. She’d been like this for days now. Like an Olympic athlete to the front door, only to usually moan with disappointment when there was nothing there. Then she was grumpy as fuck.
But this morning it would appear the hoped-for mail had arrived as she squealed like a practicing opera singer. I’d had a heavy night last night with my friends and it pierced my skull. I told her to keep it down. After that I heard her go to the kitchen and put on the coffee machine. There was silence so I knew she was reading. I imagined her reaction to her mail, and I waited for her to scream out about disgusting pigs, but she didn’t. I fell back to sleep.
Glancing at the clock, I saw I’d only been out about twenty minutes or so. I felt like something woke me up. Then I heard it again. A weird noise against the wall separating my room from Ella’s. What the fuck was she doing? It sounded like something was brushing the wall. She was never cleaning at this time in the morning? She knew I’d got a freaking hangover. Maybe it was a stress reaction to the letter? You see I may have contacted Grace Graham and asked if I could send some mail myself as a little experiment. The woman herself had called me and we had had a little chat about what I wanted to do. So I knew exactly what Ella had received this morning because I had written that explicit letter myself. It was everything I wanted to do to Miss Ella Cassidy and couldn’t.
I was going to show Ella that you couldn’t know who your match was from a letter. That you could be writing to absolutely anybody. That the person could be right in front of your nose, but you’d believe they were some other person from what they wrote to you. I was surprised Grace agreed to it, given she was supposed to make the matches, not have them dictated to her, but she said she felt it was worth trying. Maybe her business wasn’t doing as well as she made out?
I heard a groan. The unmistakable sound of Ella coming. I’d heard her before. She might think she was quiet, but the walls were thin. Then her feet padded away from the wall.
Had she come against the wall?
What was she doing?
Then a thought zapped across my mind, the scene in glorious Technicolor. No! Had she just acted out the scenario in my letter? The thought itself was enough that I had to wrap my hand around my girth and jerk myself off.
Ready to hit the shower, I woke myself up with a relatively cool one, wrapped a towel around my waist, and headed back to my room. Soft snores came from Ella’s room. Bless her, even her snores were cute. I very gently opened her door a little to see her curled up under her covers, mouth open. She looked so peaceful. I also saw that the letter I sent had fluttered onto the floor.
She really did get off to it!
Once I was dry, I made some fresh coffee and saw that the other letter was discarded on the kitchen table. Hmm, she may say she wanted hearts and flowers, but it would appear that Ella was most attracted to the thought of hot, rampant sex.
Result!
Chapter Six
Ella
When I woke up and realized where I was, back in bed after a rampant masturbation session, my cheeks flushed with an incinerating heat. I showered and dressed and made my way to the kitchen because I needed another coffee, and now I needed something to eat too because it was past lunchtime and I was ravenous.
Finn was sitting at the kitchen table, the letter addressed to ‘my dearest wife’ at the side of him.
“I don’t suppose you haven’t read it?”
He lifted his hands. “You left it out on the kitchen table. I’m a nosy fucker. Course I read it. Then I puked, rinsed my mouth, and came back to the kitchen table for more coffee.”
I pulled my lips into a saccharine smile. “Ha ha.”
“So you like this then? Is this what you were looking for in your ideal man?”
Even though surprisingly I was more taken in by the ‘I would fuck you’ letter, there’s no way I can back down now. Plus, the guy did sound nice. I’d already decided to write back to both of them. I may as well see where both got me.
“Absolutely. Later this evening I will settle down on the couch and pen my next letter to Gavin, my potential future husband.”
Finn mock shivered. “God, it just seems so creepy. He could weigh six-stone and be riddled by acne.”
“And if it’s true love, I’d love him anyway.” I protested, even though we both knew I couldn’t stomach those pimple-popper clips on the internet and so would be likely to vomit all over my potential future skin-challenged husband.
Finn stood up.
“Where are you going? You’ve not finished your coffee.”
“I was just off to find my violin.”
“Fuck you.”
He winked which made my cheeks heat again, this time in a cold fury.
I poured myself a coffee and picked up my letter again. “So is your head better now?”
“Yeah, I just needed a few extra hours in bed. All good now, or it will be after this coffee. I was thinking of making some bacon and egg. Fancy it?”
My stomach growled in appreciation.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
While he stood cooking, Finn told me about his drinking escapades. He didn’t mention any women but I’m sure there would have been some hanging around; hanging off his every word, like he was a god.
“So what are your plans today?” He asked me.
“I’m going to make a dress.” I told him. “I’m going to pop out for some material and then do some prep.”
“Can’t you leave work at home for once? We could catch a movie or something.”
“No, I really want to make this dress.”
“There’s a classic with Doris Day on this afternoon.”
“It’s in my head; I need to make it.”
“It’s a mild day, we could walk around Central Park?”
“I’m making the dress.”
“Fuck, it must be something sensational if you’re all consumed. What’s so important about it?”
“Err.” How could I tell him it featured in a fantasy in a letter he didn’t know I received?
“I dreamed it. You know when I went back to bed. I was so tired and now I’m so glad I decided to catch a couple more hours because this dress is going to be amazing, and it’s not work, because it’s for me. I need to go get some gold silk or satin like material. It’s a dress for an elegant evening out. One I don’t even have planned, Finn, but I just have a burning desire to make it. I can clearly picture it in my mind.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your burning desires. I’ll take off and hit the gym, and then I’ll do some work myself. Probably go to HappBEANness. I’ll take my laptop out with my gym bag. Might as well get ahead on the w
ork while you go all boring and obsessed on your latest project.”
“Say hi to Casey and Audrina for me.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them how I offered you an afternoon of my company and I was turned down for an afternoon of dressmaking.”
He handed me my bacon and eggs and just for a second I felt guilty. Finn offered to do the things he read in the letter that I liked, and I turned him down for a fantasy lover. But the lover could become a reality and Finn was the actual fantasy, so I just needed to stick to my plans.
Later that night I began to write my second letters.
Dear Future Husband (I know you’re Gavin but I’m sticking with my original opening line!)
It was so lovely to hear from you.
No, I don’t think it’s too early to tell me you’d like to be a father. I did address my first letter to my future husband! I think it’s important from the outset to state the things we hope for, otherwise we’re not really getting to know each other, but rather just scratching the surface, aren’t we?
I also would like children. I don’t know how many.
Maybe start with one and see how that goes, hahaha. I’d also like to have pets. A dog or a cat maybe. Not sure which I’d want first, the pets or the babies!
I’m imagining you quoting poetry at me in the park having read how learned with literature you are! That does sound romantic. Maybe a picnic and along with the sandwiches we take a few books and talk about how wonderful the prose is while we enjoy some good food and maybe even a sneaky bottle of wine?
I also like the sound of the candlelit dinner. We could have the classical music playing in the background as I don’t think my Taylor Swift would do much for the ambience!
Moving things along in this letter, I currently live in an apartment, but long-term I see myself in a home with a small yard for my child/children to play in. It would need a guest room also for my dressmaking as I currently have things dotted around all over the apartment (which does my roommates head in, as they may have trod on a rogue pin once or twice!).
It would need to be close to my business that I run with a friend also.
I suppose we’d better talk about our more unsavory qualities this time around. I must admit that I love eating the smelliest cheese there is (another thing my poor roommate has to put up with). As I said I leave dressmaking things around, mainly because I become entirely consumed by the process. It’s such a passion. Everything else seems to fade into the background when I’m designing. That’s another not ideal quality for any partner in my life but it’s how it is. I love my work. But I’m totally aware that in the future when I have a family I might need to be a little less obsessed by my work.
I’m told I snore a little (but only lightly).
I really have to have the seat in the bathroom left down. It being left up drives me insane. In my future home I would love my own bathroom, just for me, that I could fill with scented candles and make a total girl zone.
Best, Ella.
Then it was time to write back to the other one. I couldn’t believe that these had to be read by Grace before she mailed them on. I’d bet her memoirs were going to be something spectacular!
Dear Mr. X
Well, your letter was something I wasn’t expecting.
All I’m going to say this time around is I’m making the dress.
Ella xo
I smiled a self-satisfied smile. I’d managed to convey a huge message in just those few lines without having to say a single dirty word myself. It was a tease of a letter.
I handwrote both letters out on plain white paper and placed them in white envelopes this time, and then put those in a large envelope which I addressed to Grace. Then I popped out to mail them. With up to five days for it to reach Grace and then her having to pass on the letters and the reply, I had a long wait ahead. Letter writing was proving to be quite the delayed gratification.
Chapter Seven
Finn
I’d spent the day keeping out of Ella’s way. When I got home, she was consumed by her dressmaking. As I’d learned by now to not go anywhere near her, or even attempt to talk to her, while she was in the midst of a creative process, I called one of my friends and arranged to go bowling and then for drinks again afterward.
When I got home, Ella had gone to bed but she’d left out her laptop. I knew her passcode to her Word docs as she used the same damn thing for anything. The name of her old pet cat and then just added a number after it every time she had to update, so Tiddles8 got me through to her drafted out letters, so I got advance notice of what Grace would pass on to me.
I had to admit, I’d been hoping for some jerking off material, but her letter was well-played. Now it was a case of waiting for Grace to send it onto me (in a brown unmarked envelope so Ella wouldn’t get suspicious) and then I could write back again.
God, this waiting was torture.
Chapter Eight
Ella
Wednesday, January 23, 2019
The mail hit the mat just as I was on my way out of the door. I scooped it up, popped it in my purse and made my way to work.
“Well?”
“Give me chance to get my coat off, will you?”
“You’ve got replies, haven’t you? What do they say?”
I’d filled Jodi in on everything and I think she was almost as excited as me.
“It only dropped through on my way out, so I’ve not had chance to open them yet. You go get the coffees while I actually get set for doing some work around here and then I’ll open them.”
Jodi grabbed her purse and didn’t even bother with her jacket. “There’d better not be a queue, is all I’m saying. If there is, I’m declaring a state of emergency and pushing to the front.”
It was cruel but I’d deliberately hoped there was a queue because I wanted to read my letters myself before I shared them with Jodi.
Both this time were in plain white envelopes, so I didn’t know which I’d open first. I ripped open the first envelope and found a letter from Gavin. Did my insides just drop a little in disappointment that it wasn’t the horny Mr. X’s letter? I was disappointing myself with my physiology. Maybe I just generally needed to get laid more?
Dearest future wife,
Well it sounds like we already have two perfect dates lined up. Firstly, a trip to the park where we shall read poetry and drink champagne. (You said wine but maybe champagne is more romantic, and we could also eat strawberries?) Then again maybe you don’t like champagne and that’s why you said wine. Either is fine with me! Then secondly, we can eat by candlelight with classical music in the background. Afterwards I feel it’s only fair if we go somewhere that plays Taylor Swift so you can have a singalong or a dance!
Then somehow between these dates and a suitable period of time we will move onto the new home, pets, and children! Feels a little strange saying this here, but everything is in full working order, though you can actually never know if you are firing the right shots, if you get my drift!
I’m allergic to cats, so we’d have to go adopt the cutest little puppy as soon as we got our new home. Then we could work on the babies…
You’d definitely need your own workspace so that you could expand your business if required. After all, if we had small children, maybe you’d like to do some work from home. Although I must confess I’m not the neatest person myself. Still I don’t think the idea of pins in my feet is one that features in my future fantasies!
I would like to write my own books one day. Maybe it’s a dream; but seeing as we’re talking about our ideal future, mine would be to be able to work from home writing, and that way I can take my fair share of the childminding and dogsitting duties and support your career.
My bad points. Hmm, let me see…
I can be a real grumpy ass after I’ve been out for the night. I think it’s because my drinking days are coming to an end. Could I be getting too old???!!!!
Sometimes I break wind and it smells. (I’m guessing
you do too). I promise to try to walk out of rooms if I know one’s coming but sometimes they sneak out. And I might laugh, because I’m a guy, and we do this, even though it annoys women. (Sorry, but I felt we were at the stage of warts and all!!)
I can be jealous. Not to the point of psychotic. But if a woman is mine, I can be a bit alpha. I’m not possessive like I won’t allow my girlfriend to go out, but if a man talks to her, I might have to tell him to back off, you know do a bit of male postulating.
Hoping none of the above has put you off, and that you write our third letter!
Your (potential) future husband xo
Jodi came through the door clutching our drinks. I startled guiltily.
“You bitch! You started without me. What’s it say?”
I exchanged a coffee for the letter. She placed both her coffee and my letter on the counter and sat on the stool behind before picking the letter back up.
