First Letters To Gail's Husband Michael
Your wife wanted me to write this letter to you. She will not tell me if it is to punish you or to excite you. She has only said that if I won’t do this for her then she and I can not continue. I believe her. She is a determined woman so I will do what she says to maintain my access to her. So that I can continue to fuck her.
Strong words I know, to hear from another man about your wife. But she has demanded them of me. Telling me that I must be brutally candid, as that is the only way that it is going to work. I have had to take her word for it. I have little idea of what is going on. I only know that she loves you dearly while also enjoying how she and I spend our time together.
We spend it in bed. But not always. Sometimes we go out. Since she is so pretty, I like to show her off. Do you like to show her off? She won’t tell me whether or not you do. Or anything else about you. I have given up asking. I have to be content with what she tells me. So I have agreed that I do not need to know any more than that she would never leave you and that you are away a lot of the time.
I wish she were my wife. I would love to have a wife like her. She is a very alluring woman. I would suffer jealousy for her. I would pay that price for having her be mine. Maybe you know what I mean. About an exquisite anguish making you feel alive knowing that your wife has been with another man. More than that even. Knowing the ways how she was with another man. Explicitly.
An excitement for you, then? Your pain crossing over into pleasure? Maybe that is what is going on here. It would be for me. I think I would enjoy it. I think that I would like to be in your place reading a letter about my wife and how she offered herself up to be sexually devoured by another man. It would inspire me to replace her sensations of him with my own accomplishments.
Perhaps this is her plan. For you and me to be in rhythm to replace one another, each serving a side of her that the other can’t. I will do my part - both here and when I am in bed with her. I need no more than that.
All for now,
Gail has assured me that these letters are what you want. That you enjoyed my first one to you last week. And that you are anxiously anticipating another one after today.
She has just left and I am sitting at my desk and my cock is still hard and still wet from being inside of not only her sex. One would not think that I could still be this way - rigid and slick. And maybe that is less a testimony to my virility than it is to Gail’s extraordinary sexuality that can only leave a man wanting more. Perhaps you know.
We had a pleasant lunch together. The weather was warm so she was wearing only a sheer blouse and nothing else under her suit jacket. I had asked her to dress like that so that her little girl breasts could be noticed from the right angle if I wanted them to be. I find it exciting to see a mature woman like that. One who when she was younger perhaps wished she had been more endowed but who later in life need not be afraid of being drawn down by nature.
Eyes registered her proud beauty as she walked toward me. It can be sensed when a woman is in anticipation of being fulfilled, for she will be carrying with her an aura that will shimmer for anyone interested as a number of men in the room were. I treated them by reaching to push open her jacket as we met, turning her to face the room as I kissed her cheek in hello. Her nipples could be seen distended by her excitement at being displayed, her areolae dark against the diaphanous fabric showing them where to look. Later, we could not wait to finish eating even though we both were rather basking in the attention. Her for being so almost brazen and me for being the fortunate one who was going to soon be enjoying her offerings.
I did not have to wait long. On the drive back to my place your wife asked me if I had enjoyed watching her show off like that. Then she reached over at me in determination not waiting for a reply. I shifted in my seat to help her while bracing myself to keep the car on the road. How cool her touch felt as she wrapped her small hand around the swollen answer she was looking for.
That usually doesn’t happen. An antic like that. We are very careful in all respects when we are together. But something made today special. Maybe it was because we were starting to do what we had only talked about in whispers during sex. About her showing herself off briefly, demurely, and most unashamedly. Maybe today we were feeling the opening of floodgates to do whatever we wanted to do from our sexuality. I was, anyway, as I moaned while looking down at the glitter of her wedding ring as she began to stroke my cock hard.
No longer teenagers by any stretch of the imagination, we knew we had to stop - but only the car as I pulled over the first place I could. Your wife then exchanged her hands for her mouth, not being able to wait until we got somewhere private for me to show her proof of my appreciation.
We were in a good spot. The turn-out was too short to invite company and the traffic demanded that everybody keep on going. So I relaxed completely. Except where I was in her mouth as she vigorously and noisily began sucking me off. It felt so good, Michael, I have to tell you. All of me wanted to be in her mouth as I began to thrust my hips up to meet her plunges. More than once I gagged her but that stopped nothing. It seemed to make her want to feel my strength even more so I began to yank at her hair to f***e her to take me even deeper.
We were in the unrelenting grip of passion. We could not stop. And it got rougher. As we began to fight ourselves to orgasm. Both furiously pulling at one another, her painfully at my cock while I reached over and cupped and pinched and pawed at her naked breasts that she had been so proud of at lunch.
Sounds were being made. And even cries. As we got closer and closer and closer until we burst. I think that I was hurting her with my hands and maybe my cock by the time I erupted. But nothing was being said except her yes, yes, yes, yes as she was drinking me down.
Well…that is all for now, Michael. We are back at my place and your wife is stirring and I want to fuck her once more before she has to return to you so I will close this letter to write again soon.
I have just finished being with your wife, and I am tired, but I wanted to tell you about our time together while her scent on me was still fresh. Gail agreed and let herself out so that I would not have to do anything but to sit down and inhale her as I type. I would prefer to be rushing back to the bed to wrap myself in the evidence of our time spent there. But one must not be greedy. The three of us have an agreement.
I was not as aggressive at first with her as I usually am. What we did in the car had taken the edge of my not having seen her for a while. But I still didn’t wait long to pull her tight toward me so that I could stand my leg between hers, lifting her skirt so that she could straddle it while we kissed.
She had put on fresh lipstick to make her mouth a deep succulent red because she knows that I like it when she paints herself. I love kissing her when she is fresh like that. The sound she always makes when I first push my tongue against her. It is a game we play. As if she were reluctant to open any of herself while urging herself front to back against my leg. Part of her resists, another part of her voraciously awaits.
I like to leave her wearing at least something while I am fucking her. (Although at other times only her being stark naked will do.) Today it was her skirt. Not her sheer blouse because I had already seen her like that. Me and the men I showed her to had. Leaving only to the imagination what her sex was like. Her very private self.
So today I had her with her skirt left on, pulled up high enough so that I could get up into her but not so high as to show her sex completely. I was playing to that resisting part of her, her feigned reluctance that needed to be pushed through with sometimes less than gentle urging.
Gentle though today. Tenderly allowing her her modesty after she had been so brazen in both the restaurant and the car. She frightened herself a bit I think. That she could be like that. That showing herself like she did could excite her so. To the degree that she could not stop thrashing as I administered to her on the side of that road.
On the bed she gave up her first whimper easily when I began kissing her again, and released her first moan most silently as I entered her for the first time today as she lay there open but not exposed. No resistance now. Not even pretended. She was too wet and too swollen to want to do anything but receive. And too shocked and too bruised to want to be but held as she curled up to meet me as I made us one.