Author's Note:
This is an actual letter, word for word, once sent to me by an amazing 32-year-old woman named Jeanine. We had met online when I lived in California and she was in Iowa.
We flew back and forth a couple times and enjoyed an incredible sexual experience together. Jeanine was 5'8", about 130 pounds, with long dark brown hair, and 34-B breasts.
I guess Jeanine was lonely one night and decided to share her sexual fantasy with me in writing. For what it's worth, Jeanine had an MBA and was professionally employed at a local university. Yet, her language, her desires, are graphic. She holds nothing back.
I rediscovered this letter and decided to post it because we don't often see sex from a woman's point of view on this site. Jeanine and I went our separate ways eventually, but a lovely woman and a giving partner!
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This is my fantasy...
I get home very early on a Sunday morning--just before dawn. Friends and I have
been out dancing and having fun. I've had a little too much to drink, not much, but enough to allow me to say things out loud I wouldn't otherwise say.
My clothes are a bit disheveled from the dancing and from more than one attempt by newly-met dance partners to find out what kind of underwear I have on. I'm feeling happy, and horny, and just a bit sleepy.
I'm wearing all black--my usual out-on-the-town color that I knows draws attention to my pale skin. I can still smell my perfume, mixed with all the sweat from all the activity on the dance floor. I know what my panties must smell like--and I know you know what that smells like, too. But you're not here. You're in California.
I think about just climbing into a hot, sudsy bath and relaxing, thinking of other bathrooms, other times when we've been together--wet and warm, with your hard cock in my hot pussy, you fucking me from behind with mirrors and candles reflecting our fucking.
But as much as I want right now to be warm and wet, and thinking of you, I think also of climbing between cool sheets and letting the sun come up outside, slowly lighting my bedroom while I drift off to sleep, and to dream. I take off only my black heels and my nubby black sweater and put on the black sleep mask you gave me (originally intended, I think, for other, more rigorous, activities than sleep).
I drift off, immediately beginning to dream about you because I've been thinking about lovemaking all evening. Dancing, with its rhythmic movements and the opportunity to touch your partner often, is very erotic to me. My nipples have been hard most of the long evening, rubbing against the inside of my black lace bra and making me long even more to feel you.
In my dream, we are sitting on a couch, watching TV, but I become gradually aware that you're actually gazing over at me. You unzip your pants and pull out your cock and I watch as your hand slides up and down your hard shaft. We sit like that for a few seconds, me watching you touch yourself, and you watching me.
You know that I can't ignore your arousal. And deep down, I'm thrilled that it's my mouth and cunt you want for your cock. As you watch me on the couch, I stick out my tongue, licking my lips, and making sure my mouth is wet and ready to receive you. But before I can do anything, you reach over and put both your hands behind my head--into my hair--and pull me towards you.