Dear John 13

Dear John,

You'll have to take my word for it when I start this letter by telling you that I never thought I'd be writing a 'Dear John' letter. I'd much rather talk face-to-face. But I feel like my reasons for leaving you are so embarrassing - for you - that it's easier this way. And hey, your name is actually John, so how else am I supposed to address this?

So yes, you read that correctly: I'm leaving you. I didn't think it would come to this. When we first started dating, I thought I'd found my prince, my knight on a white horse. You are so handsome, so kind, so thoughtful. You can always make me laugh when I've had a bad day. You never fail to pamper me. We agree on all the important stuff in life, and enjoy most of the same activities. My friends and family all love you, they're always telling me how perfect you are for me. And I know your friends say the same about me.

So what's wrong? Well, I've tried to show you, so many times. But you never seem to understand. And even when I come right out and tell you, it just seems to go over your head. Maybe a few examples will refresh your memory.

Remember the time you came home from work to find me on my hands and knees in your kitchen, scrubbing the floor wearing nothing but an apron? What guy doesn't take me from behind right then and there? Well, you, apparently. You were the perfect gentleman, helping me to my feet, kissing me once, and telling me I didn't have to scrub your floor, I should put my feet up while you cook dinner for me. Really, John? Really?

Remember a few weeks later, while we were having sex, and I told you what a naughty little girl I had been, and how I needed to be spanked? Not only didn't you indulge me, but you insisted on having a conversation later about how you didn't need me to act like that on your account, how you weren't one of those guys. Really? Did it ever occur to you that I really, truly wanted to be spanked?

Don't get me wrong, John, you're not the worst lover a girl could have. Your touch is always gentle, and you never fail to let me cum before you do. But it's just not enough. To be honest, I don't know if you noticed or not that I've stopped trying to push the envelope. You don't seem to care either way, we just keep on our regular routine of sex every few days, the same old positions, the same old orgasms. You seem happy as ever.

But I've been having an affair. No dinner-and-a-movie, no romantic evenings on the town. Just hot-as-hell, mind-blowing, naughty, dirty sex with someone who knows just how to push me out of my comfort zone, little by little, until I'm doing things I never thought I'd be kinky enough to try. And loving it.

Do I have your attention? Good, it's time for you to learn, in excruciating detail, what you'll be missing after I'm gone, now that I've finally decided to leave you for him.

Know how you always pull your cock out of my mouth as soon as it's hard, as if there's no purpose to a blow job beyond preparing you to fuck me? Well, John, there are guys out there who appreciate a good blow job. And girls like me who enjoy giving them. Like last night, when you were working late and he kept me company.

I love how he walks into my apartment and pushes me to my knees right there by the door, wordlessly putting me to work. I love the feeling of his big, strong hand on my head, pulling me by the hair down onto his cock, pressing it deep into my throat until I gag, and then pounding in and out with a steady rhythm so that I have to struggle to catch a breath. I love the challenge of keeping my focus as my knees start to hurt, and marvelling at his stamina as my jaw starts to get tired.

He keeps one hand on my hair, while his other hand reaches down to cup my perfect, perky breasts, pinching my nipples hard between his fingers to keep my attention. When I struggle beneath him, as if I want to get up off my knees, he pushes me down even lower, so that I have to work hard just to keep my lips around his shaft.

When he finally gives in to his pleasure, I love how he covers me with his cum, shooting it all over my face and chest and then admiring his work as it drips from my chin to my tits to the floor. When that first drop hits the floor, he instructs me, calmly, to lick it up. If I offer even the hint of disobedience, there will be a penalty. Not that I mind, which is why I usually resist just enough to earn that penalty.

This time, before bending down to lick his hot cum off the floor, I reach up to fix my hair, to let it down out of the messy ponytail he created while fucking my mouth with his cock. Just as my long red hair tumbles down around my shoulders, I look up to see his deep blue eyes glaring down into mine with disapproval.

"Stand up. Follow me."

His voice is warm, kind, like yours, John, but also firm. He doesn't talk to me like his princess. He talks to me like his cum-sucking slut. I follow him into the bedroom and obey his instructions, facing the bed and putting my forearms flat against the mattress, and am left only to listen and feel what happens next, since I can't see anything but the bed.

I hear him removing his clothes. I feel his hands push up my skirt until the fabric is bunched around my waist, and with one smooth motion, he pulls my panties down so that I can step out of them and kick them aside. I long for him to enter me, but know I'll have to wait patiently before he will indulge me. I also know that I can't be sure of what will come next, he always keeps me guessing.

A few moments of silence, then SMACK, my skin tingles and I gasp, trying to guess what object he used to slap my ass. Leather, I'm sure, although it could have been either his belt or a toy designed just for the purpose. After a few more swats, I'm able to identify the object just from its feel - it's a wonderful toy he introduced me to, a small dildo with fine leather straps attached.

"Yes," I hissed, "please fuck me..."

"Patience, a little patience, please."

He sets the toy down on the bed next to me, just close enough that I could see it, and then embraced me from behind, his cock sliding between my legs, teasing my pussy lips, as he grabs one of my tits firmly in each hand and squeezed, hard.

I gasp at the combination of pain and pleasure, my breasts aching but my pussy longing to be filled, as I press back into him, encouraging him, begging him with my body. He picks up the toy again, this time pushing it into my mouth. I lick and suck lustily, certain that it is in my best interest to lubricate the dildo, although not at all sure where he would use it next.

Effortlessly, his cock slides into my eager pussy and he begins a gentle thrusting. We continue this delightful motion for a few minutes before he pulls the toy back out of my view, and with no warning, thrusts it into my ass. You see, John, there are dirty girls who enjoy anal, and I happen to be one of them. I cry out, once again relishing the combination of pleasure and pain that he so skillfully brings to our encounters.

Once the toy is deep in my ass, he leaves it there, the leather strands of its handle draped across my back. He forces his cock into my pussy deeper and faster now, pushing me ever closer to an insanely intense orgasm. His hands reach around me again, enveloping me, and he strokes my clit with one while using the other to once again pinch my incredibly hard and sensitive nipples.

This is more than I can handle, and after just a few moments, I scream out in ecstasy as a powerful orgasm courses through my entire body. He rides it out, keeping up the intensity of his thrusts, his pinches, his strokes, until I collapse beneath him, face first into the bed. He gently pulls the toy from my tight ass and tosses it aside, then rolls me over onto my back.

I look up into his eyes as he plunges into me once again, his cock still rock hard and ready for more. He grabs my hips and pulls me into him, then grabs my legs and pulls them up, my ankles coming to rest on his shoulders.

He holds here for a few moments, pressed deep into me, as his hands move over my chest, again teasing my nipples, first rolling them gently between his fingers, then gradually pinching and squeezing more intensely.

"You really were a very bad girl, refusing to lick that cum off the floor. I think you deserve a little more punishment."

"As you wish."

He smiles, as he always does when I use his favorite three-word phrase. He begins thrusting in and out of my hot, wet pussy once again, as he reaches for another toy, this time the nipple clamps. When he first showed me this toy, I recognized the clamps but couldn't understand the purpose of the long attached chain. It hadn't taken him long to show me its purpose during one of our earlier encounters, and now I both longed for and dreaded a repeat performance.

I took the clamps from him, positioning them on my nipples, and then handed him the chain, which he placed in his teeth. From this position, he was now able to create the most intense of sensations on my nipples with the slightest movement of his head. Meanwhile, his hands began gently kneading my breasts, and he continued to pound in and out of my tender pussy.

The combination of sensations is incredible. Just as I begin to feel the pain around my pussy lips from his repeated thrusting, he tugs on the chain and my attention shifts to my aching nipples. All the while, his eyes gaze into mine, and I can see he change in his face as he approaches his own orgasm.

He lets the chain fall from his mouth and I quickly remove the nipple clamps and throw them to the floor. His hands move to my hips and he squeeze them as he makes his last few thrusts before pulling out of me to shoot his load across my chest. As always, I am amazed at the quantity of cum with which he covers me, given that it is his second orgasm of the evening. And believe me, I have a good concept of the exact quantity, as he asks me to clean it off myself, feeding it to myself one finger full at a time, until every last drop is gone.

He gets cleaned up, and we say our goodbyes, which always end the same way. He teases me about still being with boring old John, and reminds me that regardless of who I'm currently dating, I'll always be HIS cock-sucking slut. I clean up the apartment, wait for you to come home, and am thankful that you'll be satisfied with a peck on the cheek. My dripping pussy can't take much more tonight.

Sincerely,

Your former girlfriend

P.S. If you find that you can't get this story out of your head, and you want to prove to me that you can be the kind of man I need, call me.