by J J Loraine
Sometimes, I press against a wall and pretend it’s your hard chest. Nothing compares, though. Every man I pass just looks like a pale imitation of you.
I hope they haven’t made you shave. I loved the way your coarse beard rubbed against my soft skin when we kissed.
You were right that I melted into you. You were my escape, and then you became my savior. I was ready to fall back into my quicksand before you took me in your arms and held me up.
I felt the hesitancy, though. I remember it all too clearly now. Maybe I just didn’t want to notice it while we were together. That’s my fault. I should have known that you weren’t all there at the time. I understand you have a job to do; a job so hard and important and dangerous that a lesser man would crumble under the pressure. I know you can take it, though. I know you can handle both it and me. I felt it that night under the oak tree. Your power coursed through the veins in your hands and into me. I could have sworn our heartbeats synced up.
I don’t want you to be too distracted by me, though.
You have a job to do, and it’s too hazardous to not be solely focused on. I know you said you’ve always made it out fine before, but, just like you said, now’s different; now you have me.
I don’t want to be the reason for your demise. I don’t know if I could deal with myself if you didn’t come back and I felt like I was the reason for it.
I think we should stop our correspondence.
I look forward to your letters so much, I really do, but...
Thinking of you, out there, thinking of me, gives me such comfort through all the stress of school and personal relationships. I know my shit doesn’t compare to yours, but I’m still dealing with just about as much as I can handle right now.
I can’t imagine how you’re dealing with everything you’re going through.
I almost forgot to hand in an assignment on time, yesterday, because I was so caught up in rereading your last letter. You reminded me of how amazing our little time under the big oak tree actually was. I... I couldn’t help but touch myself to the memory of it – of you.
If I’m so distracted on a quiet college campus, I can’t imagine how bad it is for you in a veritable war zone.
I don’t want to put you at such risk.
I want you to burn all of my letters and put me as far out of your mind as you can manage until you can escape the danger and make it back to me.
I’ll be waiting.
Sophie.
7
Owen
Dear Sophie,
Never. I never want to be without your words again.
We were under siege when I wrote my last letter – I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you that but I don’t care – I thought I might not make it out, so I had to let you know everything... well, almost everything.
The fighting has cooled off again. I read your letters every night. I trace them with my fingers every morning.
Ah shit, look at me, trying to get all poetic again.
I’m sorry, you just bring it out of me.
Maybe, when I’m back, I’ll take some creative writing courses at your college so I can learn to do it properly... all while being close to you.
I’d like to be able to put into words just how you made me feel that night under the oak tree. I don’t want to try it just yet, because I don’t want to spoil it with my lack of writing expertise.
I have to let you know that I also touch myself to the memory of that night. I do so often. I dream of it at night and during the day.
You’ve made me hard at the most inopportune times.
I can still remember your soft, plump curves and your eager, wet lips. The way you fell into me made me feel stronger than winning any fight ever could.
My fingers fit perfectly into your crevasses. Our tongues were shy, but for the brief moment that they met, I was filled with more warmth and pleasure than I had ever experienced in my entire life. I can hardly even imagine how amazing it would be to go any further with you.
I just wish that we could. I wish that I COULD burn these letters, because I didn’t need them anymore. If we were together, I feel like words would fail us. There’s so much to explore that my words can’t seem to reach. Our kiss spoke more to me than I could ever write down, even if I lived for a thousand years.
You don’t need to worry about me, out here. I’ve never felt more focused in the field. I have one goal: getting this job done and getting home to you. If only I had felt this motivated all my life, I’d be president.
I’ll take just being your man, though. To me, that’s better than any official title they can bestow on me. If I make it out of here – WHEN I make it out of here -- I’m sure there will be plenty of medals waiting for me; I’ll trade them all for just another second with you.
This will be my last mission. I swear it.
There are other options for me out there. Much more prosperous ones. I’ve ignored them for so long, because I didn’t see the point, but now I do.
We can have quite the life together, Sophie. I’ll give it all to you.
Don’t you go anywhere now.
Owen.
8
Sophie
Dear Owen,
Oh, I’m not going anywhere, cowboy.
These hips are waiting for one ride, and that’s on your majestic stallion. You think you can come by and pick me up before I’m too old?
I wish you were with me now. I have so much stress I want to relieve with you... but that might be too naughty for a simple letter...
I don’t want to burden you with any of my problems, either – I know you have your own -- but school work isn’t even the worst of what I’m dealing with right now.
There are these mean girls on campus... I don’t even want to get into it. Let’s just say I could really use a big, strong bodyguard like you, even if it’s just to lean on after a hard day.
Just the thought of resting my head on your broad shoulders gives me the strength to wade through all the shit here and keep going.
Some people just don’t appreciate how easy they really have it, you know? It’s like they can’t imagine going through hard times, and so they don’t take that into account when they see you looking disheveled for an early morning class.
You can avoid the next part of this letter if you want. It’s not that important or relevant. I just need to vent and I have no one else to talk to.
I guess that’s what I get for transferring schools in my junior year. I know I’m at a better school now, and it will all be worth it when I’m done, but some people are making it as hard as they can on me.
There’s this group of girls – sorority girls – that like to pick on some students who aren’t up to their ‘standards’. I guess they see this school as ‘their’ school, and they’ve made it their jobs to make sure everyone looks and acts pamphlet-ready at all times.
It’s infuriating. They always have these big fake smiles on. Their giggles are like rubbing plastic together. I don’t know how much longer I can take their condescension. It’s like – no, Janet, I’m not trying to make the school look bad by not having any make-up on. I’m wearing a sweatshirt because I had to work all last night, and THEN I had to study. I don’t care that you want to coat the walls in saran wrap and have everyone look as thin and barbie-doll-like as you – I have a degree to get.
It’s hard to find the energy to fight off these girls in real-time though. I have early morning classes – I know, woe is me, college girl has to get up early to go sit in a lecture hall – I just don’t have the energy to defend myself.
I usually just try and shuffle past the bad rows and set up shop in the back. I like what I’m studying. I just wish I could like the people I’m studying with.
Not everyone’s so bad. I think I might be starting to make friends with some other girls who are sick of the sororities shit too. I wish we could expedite the process, so I could lay all my worries and problems on them, instead of bothering you with my simple
civilian life troubles.
I really can’t wait until you’re back. I have so much more I want to tell you... but I feel like it might only be appropriate in person. I’m not sure what to say in these letters. I really don’t want to burden you, but I just start writing and I can’t stop.
I’ll take your lead and I won’t redact anything.
I’m just lonely, I guess, but these letters make me feel less lonely.
I can’t wait to fall into your arms again... maybe we can do more than just kiss next time? I have to admit, I rubbed one off to the thought of you touching yourself while thinking of me.
I felt your manhood grow under the big oak that night. It felt huge. The idea of it growing for me makes me wetter than any tears of frustration ever could.
Would you like some more material to tide you over until you can come home? I can send you a picture... just say the word.
As for your writing, I don’t think you need to take any courses. You’re a good writer. I was just being a bitch earlier. I wouldn’t mind if you took some courses at my school, though, but that’s just because then you would always be close to me.
For now, I’ll take whatever you can give me.
Consider it practice.
Here’s an assignment for you...
Describe what you would do to me if we were together right now.
I eagerly away your response,
My thoughts,
Sophie.
9
Owen
Dear Sophie,
Oh, girl. You’ve opened up a can of worms.
I’ve been thinking about what I’d do to you if we were together since that night when we actually were together. I was even thinking of it then, but I restrained myself. I won’t make the same mistake again. I don’t know if I can fit all my naughty thoughts on this pad of paper, but I’ll try my best. I know you have to deal with big assignments all the time, the least I can do is write my own.
Where to start?
Maybe with your perfect, plump lips? Oh God, I can still remember how softly they pressed into mine that night under the big oak tree. You’re warmth still lingers inside of me. Sometimes I can feel the heat of your big breasts push against me from underneath that plush sweater of yours.
Oh, how I wanted to rip that sweatshirt off of you.
That’s the first thing I’ll do when we’re together again. We better be somewhere private, because I’m going to get you as naked as the day you were born. I’ll rip off your clothes with my teeth if I have to. I want to feel your bare skin against mine. I want to take your nipples in my fingers and gently pinch and I want to kiss down your neck and then bury myself in your bosom. I want to make your quiver with my tongue.
I’ll make my way down from your chest, past your belly and right in between your legs.
First, I’ll kiss up your thick, beautiful thighs; then I’ll introduce my tongue to your womanhood.
You better be soaking wet for me, because I want to drink up your juices. I’m dying of thirst out here, and you’re the only one who can quench my naughty desires.
I know you’ll be tight, so I’ll loosen you up a bit with a finger. I’ll bend it gently inside of you while I lick atop your entrance. When you’re ready, I’ll add another finger... and then maybe another. I want to stretch you out. You’re going to have to get warmed up, because I’m big, baby. There’s no two ways about it. I don’t like to brag, but I’ve had trouble with it before, so I’m warning you now: get ready!
When you’re nice and open, I’ll work my way back up your body and let you taste yourself in my mouth. I’ll lie on top of your and wrap your soft, naked body up completely with my own. You’ll wrap your thick thighs around my back and I’ll push inside of you.
I’ll be slow and gentle and first, but things will pick up quickly enough. I know I won’t be able to control myself. I’ll begin to thrust and pound away like my life depends on it. Our sweaty skin will stick and smack against each other.
I’ll do this until I feel you shake. I won’t stop until you scream to the heavens with pleasure. Only then will I let myself climb to the same heights.
When your nails dig into my back and your hot breath fills my ear, then I’ll explode inside of you with all the force and heat of the mightiest eruption.
I’ll fill you up, completely. You’ll never be without me again.
I’ll collapse on top of you, this time. I’ll kiss those perfect plump lips of yours and then I’ll tell you that I love you, because... well, I love you.
You don’t have to say it back; just know that it’s enough for me to finally let you know how I really feel.
I’ll fall to your side and we can recover, side by side, entirely naked and satisfied... until we’re ready for round two.
Any suggestion for that...?
All my love,
Owen.
P.S. Tell those mean girls to shove it. You’re strong and real; they’re fake and weak. You don’t have to put up with their shit. I’ll always be behind you, no matter what.
10
Sophie
Dear Owen,
Any suggestions for round two? Are you kidding me!? I only have about a thousand.
You’ll be happy to know that your letter is now soaked and stained in my juices. I tried to control myself – I really did -- I wanted to save your wonderful words forever, but the thought of being with you, and the way you described it, just made me so wet I could have exploded.
I guess it’s my turn to make you stain your letter now, huh?
I think I can do that.
You’re in pretty good shape, we probably won’t have to wait long until you’re ready to go again. I know it won’t take long for me. I’m writing this letter immediately after the first orgasm you just gave me. Here’s how we’ll get to the second.
I’ll roll on top of your big, hard body and taste myself on your lips. I’ll rub my soft cheeks against your rough beard and writhe my naked body against your heaving, chiseled form. I know I’ll be able to feel every line of your washboard-abs and bulging chest. I’ll kiss you long and deep until your monster below has risen from the depths of its previous satisfaction.
When you’re hard again, I’ll start kissing down your neck. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but be warned, I do bite.
I want to leave my mark on you.
I’ll take your nipples in my mouth and paint them with my saliva. I’ll make love to them as I grab your manhood in my little fingers. I’ll kiss and I’ll rub and I’ll tug and I’ll lick. I want you to feel like your completely covered in my sensuality. I’m not big enough to cover you all physically, so I’ll have to work extra hard to fill you up with what natural gifts I’ve been given.
I’ll slide my tongue down your chest and to your stomach. I’ll stop there, though, because I’m sure you’ll want my breasts to meet your manhood.
I’ll wrap you up in my tits and I’ll let you pound away in between them. There’s no need to be gentle. I want to feel your power.
When I can’t take you being outside of me any longer, I’ll pull away and let my mouth wander down between your legs.
I can only guess at how big you’ll really be, but I’ll try my best to take as much of you inside of me as I can. I’ll open wide and flatten my tongue and I’ll work my way down your pride until I can’t take anymore, then I’ll go to work.
I’ll bob and swirl and make you throb and moan. I don’t care if I gag or choke, I just want to make you happy.
Before I can make you too happy, though. I’ll pull away. There’s still another hole for you to fill. You’ll want to get up and flip me around, but I’ll put a hand on your hard, heaving chest and push you back down. You can take me from behind another time – right now, I want to ride you.
I’ll look into your steely blue eyes as I lift up my leg and hold you steady. You’ll lick your lips and I’ll bite mine and then I’ll slowly descend onto your gigantic rod. I can feel your hot, hard skin stretching
and prodding into me now.
Oh god, I’m so wet for you.
I’ll sit on top of you until my thighs hit your pelvis. I might have to pause for a second, if you’re really as big as I think you might be.
You were right, I will be tight, no matter how many fingers you put in beforehand.
When I’ve found the right spot, though, I’ll start to sway my hips. You better grab on tight when I start to gyrate, because, boy, can I get going when I get into a rhythm. You can grab my hips or you can grab my tits, I don’t care, just as long as your big, strong hands are on me.
It won’t be long until I start to quiver and whimper. Don’t take this as a sign to stop. Pick up the slack on your end. Pound up into me and fill whatever room we’re in with the smacking of our skin. I’ll coat you in my juices.
You push up into me and I’ll push down into you, and when the time is right, we’ll both explode with ecstatic bliss. I’m on the pill, you won’t ever have to leave me.
When you’re all empty and have gone soft again, I’ll fall beside you. I’ll kiss your cheek, just above your beard and I’ll whisper in your ear.
“I love you.”
I’ll say that because it’s the truth. I do. I have always loved you. That’s why I hated you so much in high school. You started to date one of the mean girls (Jennifer) and just stood by while they tormented me.
I’ve always thought that you had joined in, but the more I remember, the less I can recall you actually doing anything wrong. Maybe my mind just filled in the blanks with my own false memories before. You were just dating the hot, popular cheerleader; I don’t blame you. You never stood up for me then, but I don’t know if you even knew that anything bad was going on.
I’ve forgiven you. You’ll know that for sure when you feel my hot breath in your ear and hear my soft words from beside you.
All my love,
Sophie.
P.S. Don’t worry about the sorority girls. Now that I know I have you, I’m not as worried. Even if you’re not here, your words have given me more confidence than I’ve ever had before. They can go eat it, and if they bug me again, I’ll make sure to tell them.
