Letter To My Wife free porn video

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My dearest wife,

The most perfect gift I can offer you this Valentine’s Day, my lovely partner, is not one fashioned from diamonds or gold. Nor could it be purchased in the finest stores on Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue. The gift I give is one only I can give you: a remembrance all our years together and those many Valentine’s, our shared most special day.

I remember our first Valentine’s together. That tiny apartment filled to overflowing with the passion we shared. You stood in the hallway–awaiting my entrance–wearing nothing more than that wide red ribbon across your eyes, as a blindfold, your wrists bound behind your back in silken restraints. Standing before me, naked as you were, my heart raced at your perfect beauty. It is still etched in my mind. Erotic and languid: hands behind your back, your right foot pointed inward and your right knee bent slightly, you were the most beautiful creature on the planet and my lust arose before my coat and briefcase clattered to the floor.

The bated breaths you took revealed the pounding inside your chest, the passions you always carried hidden between your pretty slim thighs. Touching you with my fingertips–my hot breath in your ears–brought a shudder over your entire body causing your small pink nipples to rise up in the expectation of my delicate attentions. When your mouth fell open to pull in air, fueling your raging sexual fires I felt my raging libido could tear though any simple fabric meant to contain it. It was desire personified.

As though the gods had reached through the clouds and touched one woman giving her all the gifts of desire, beauty, arousal, creating a perfect example of woman’s power over man and mankind, a power balanced by the delight man and mankind can bestow upon woman’s worried brow. The truest form of love and lust borne in one body and one soul: yours.

Deepest love, true love, can only fuel physical desire and our love fed the beast of our bodies’ raging want, that creation of delicious friction that overwhelms both our mind and soul leaving us bare to the other, completed but exposed with no place to hide ourselves except in each other’s arms, hidden, not from each other, but from the outside world’s interference.

I took great comfort in your smooth thigh pressed against my cheek as I dipped my eager tongue inside the sweet dampness of your sex, sampling the mead of your womb. And your strained cries, from each climax, echoed in my ears and you had so many that evening I thought you might burst under my weight.

I am sure that was the night you bore the fruit of entwined love: our wonderful daughter.

That first Valentine’s after Kaitlin entered our world was another day I remember well. Rocking our infant daughter so gently till she was in the arms of Morpheus: fully embraced and silent. You leaped to your feet. Kicking off your clothing in a mad rush you whispered to me, ‘Take me, I need you inside me. Just don’t wake the baby.’

Your cries of completion, normally quite loud and impassioned, that Valentine’s, were but tiny squeaks lost in my neck, your teeth nipping at my skin to keep from shouting to the ceiling your love of my firmness held so tightly within the damp folds of your body.

I still laugh when I remember that day the previous fall. I arrived home to find you curled up on the couch weeping because you felt ‘as big as a house’ feeling that you could never again spark that lust, we so often shared, while you looked as you did. Pulling you to your feet and peeling off that ratty old bathrobe brought me to a new sense of awe and filled me to the brim. Your plump flawless belly filled with our love and your engorged tender breasts ready to nurse our most precious possession caused inside me a sexual maelstrom I had never felt before. Making love to you, ever so gently, and the tears of joy you wept, crying ‘If you still love me when I look like this, you’ll always love me.’

In the afterglow, I tucked you under my arm, your warm smooth belly pressed into my side like the rib God took from Adam. At that moment your gentle snores filled me with something I could never explain with clumsy words, alone.

Your hand always seems to find my hardness in the bed we share. Many nights I awoke to the advance of your warm palm as it encircled my rigid flesh, both flesh and hand acting on orders, not from our conscious but some corporeal demands without our waking knowledge.

Your soft breathing uninterrupted, you slumbered while your grasp held me tight. I would lay back and sigh some nights at the gift of your love while others I would take you, still half asleep, attacking the depths of body until you would relinquish your physical rapture to my intrusion.

Oh, and those Valentine’s when Kaitlin, off to visit her grandparents–as so often on our Valentine’s celebrations–when you would surrender once again to the carefree woman-child I knew in college, dancing throughout the house ecstatic in the joy of your own nakedness and that freedom to tease me at your own wont. And tease me, you would.

Through the passing years, you maintained your figure, your fiery lust, and the sense of our shared love and desire… it amazes me, somehow. The bond we share never diminished or even flickered.

What was it, four years ago? The Valentine’s you came to the dinner table wearing nothing but one of my white dress shirts, one with French cuffs. And you never laughed, but carried on like it was perfectly normal. And when you slowly popped each button after our meal and padded to my side of the table, open to me, watching my eyes to make sure I was enjoying the show. I loved every casual flick of your slender wrist.

Your fingers freed me quickly, as they always could. Some magic you possessed: your ability to find my lust and free it so readily. Swinging your leg over my chair you tucked me inside you, so comforting, you already wet from the anticipation that you so willfully kept at bay during our meal. When my body plumbed your depths your eyelids fluttered as usual–did I ever say that? When my hardness touches your womb your eyelids flutter… always have.

You bouncing in my lap, I watched your lovely familiar face. You have so many expressions when we make love I’m not sure I have categorized them all but they do so fire my ardor: each and every one.

The instant when my sticky warm seed, penetrating your deepest recesses or splashing gently onto your slim belly, sweet plump breasts, or your delightful tongue—your eager mouth open, awaiting my release—are etched in stone, never to be relinquished until no spirit remains in me to carry these loving images. Images of lust and desire that only two people deeply in love can share populate the rolling plains where my daydreams reside.

The peculiar tremble in your hips, on the verge of ecstasy brought on by the dancing of tongue, never failed to cause a joy in my heart and a rebirth in my flesh, ready to please your sensual being one last time before sleep overtook us both. Not one inch of your sweet flesh was left untouched or unexplored by my tongue, fingers, or firm male intrusion… and all were accepted and even welcomed into your open body. Each a gift exchanged between us with the hope of continued acceptance… postmarked with undying love.

Wait: the alarm for the rice just went off. Now where was I? Oh yes,

That Valentine’s evening we took pictures of one another late into the night, each one a testament to our lustiest desires–no film was ever exposed, nor even inserted into the camera, our imaginations alone recording our physical love—was one of our greatest nights. It was a night of screaming lust, crushing desire, and physical fatigue. My secretary asked me the next morning if I had ‘pulled a muscle’ the night before. I could barely contain my laughter, choosing instead to shake my head quickly before retiring to the seclusion of my office where I could recount every precious hour of our time
together.

Every step, every one of your impassioned gyrations, twirls, leaps, pliés, performed for my eyes only on Valentine’s, are locked in my memory, ready for replay at the instant of my demise. All the romantic dinners, cards, small gifts, and each sacred minute we shared on that holiday, set aside to express ultimate love for another, wait in queue… the moments that made my life something valuable to me. And all those, are the most valuable moments to me, those moments we shared on Valentine’s Day… and nights.

Oh ho. I hear a key in the door.

Back again, the key was just our lovely daughter. When she poked her head around the corner of the dining room I thought it was you briefly. Kaitlin, nineteen years old and so much like you. She peeked in at me with that sweet triangular smile–the same as yours–but then her open palm pressed against her forehead and her eyes squeezed shut.

She peered at the table–set for you and I–candles lit and lots of red hearts I cut out of some construction paper I found in the basement. Tears almost leaped from her eyes, screwed shut so tight. And then her chin wrinkled and her bottom lip quivered, exactly like you when you’re about to cry.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ I pleaded.

She sniffed and a tremble in her voice tore at my heart. ‘Daddy, I miss her, too.’ She whimpered. Our sweet daughter still calls me daddy.

‘I’m sorry,’ I replied in some confusion. ‘It’s Valentine’s. This is our special holiday. Your mother and I always celebrate together… alone.’ I added hoping she wouldn’t be offended but would take my not so subtle hint.

‘Daddy, I know. That’s why I drove down.’

I guess I forget sometimes, that the university is only a couple hours away.

‘Daddy, sometimes good people die… People we love…’

Her tears were more than I could stand. ‘Please, stop.’ I begged, feeling my own eyes welling up.

‘You have to go on with your life…’ She paused in the doorway and then rushed to me throwing her arms around my head hugging me to her breast. I could smell bath power on her. It’s the same bath powder you use. I don’t know if you introduced Kaitlin to it or if you have such similar likes to find the same scents appeal to you both.

‘Mom’s not coming home, Daddy.’ Kaitlin was bawling aloud now. I could feel her tears splashing onto my forehead as she held me close.

I circled my arm around Kaitlin’s waist and hugged her. ‘Of course she is, sweetheart. She’s always home with me on Valentine’s.’

I felt her nod, her chin flush against my head. She sighed and held me tight in her grasp, sobbing quietly.

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Letter to the Professor

Dear Professor, I haven’t had time to finish my assignment, so I’m sending you this letter to explain. Hopefully, you will be understanding of my situation and, perhaps, feel kind enough to grant me an extension? I think I may need another week. You see, I’m struggling to maintain my focus, but I guess you’ve noticed that? Despite enjoying the subject and your authoritative and intelligent lectures, I am prone to daydreaming recently. I apologise. It’s just that when you’re stood there and I’m...

4 years ago
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Letter to the Professor

Dear Professor, I haven’t had time to finish my assignment, so I’m sending you this letter to explain. Hopefully, you will be understanding of my situation and, perhaps, feel kind enough to grant me an extension? I think I may need another week. You see, I’m struggling to maintain my focus, but I guess you’ve noticed that? Despite enjoying the subject and your authoritative and intelligent lectures, I am prone to daydreaming recently. I apologise. It’s just that when you’re stood there and I’m...

Masturbation
2 years ago
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letter to GF part 1 bbw

this is a letter i wrote to my GF. i have changed the names to protect ourselves :P let me give u a idea of us. she is about 5'8, blonde hair, blue eyes, 200lbs (yes i love me a bbw girl. love some curves and a lil extra), 36ddim 6'4, brown hair shoulder length and 180lbs with a 7.5in dick...enjoyWe were both laid on the couch watching a movie. I had convinced you to wear nothing after we had showered. So you were laying there naked under the blanket on my lap, and I was naked too. The movie...

4 years ago
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Letter To Clinton Crayle

HERE ISA LETTER FROM A YOUNG MAN WHO TRIED TO FOLLOW, IN CLINTON CRAYLE'S FOOTSTEPS! Dear Mr. Crayle, Ever since I became the youngest officer on the Campus Security Force, I've been bound and determined to make a name for myself here. Of course, I consider this job only a temporary stop on my way to becoming a big-name Private Eye like you, but still, I wanted to do something really spectacular as long as I was here. That's why I assigned myself the task of catching a thief...

1 year ago
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Letter To Husband

Letter to husband Hi I am Priti 23rs old- I am 5’2″ with shoulder length straight hair. My stats is 36-28- 36. I am married and this is my real life story and I am putting in form of letter since this was the way I told my husband how I had enjoyed in his absence. This was the starting of of many incidents. Dear Jaan It happened when we were going around and u were at Office and I had gone out. I was wearing a spaghetti strapped silver top. I am sure u remembers that top, half my breasts...

4 years ago
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Letter From Shana

Letter From ShanaBy James Pendergrass – Copyright James X. Pendergrass 2011 All Rights Reserved.Hello,My name is Shana.  I'm a 32-year-old, happily-married suburban woman.  This is the story of how my marriage came to be the way it is.Let's start with the basics.  I come from an upper middle class family.  I'm white, hold a masters degree, and am a marketing director at a software company. I like to read books, go shopping, and eat at good restaurants.  I exercise regularly and eat a...

2 years ago
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Letter from Naylor Gardens

LETTER FROM NAYLOR GARDENSDear Shoeblossom:I met Mariah when she came to rent a room from me some time last year. Mariah is an engaging auburn haired court reporter, with a lovely figure, though somewhat petite. Although I told her she could call me Emmeline, she insisted on calling me Mrs. Kipps. Mariah’s a quiet girl, and I was somewhat startled when I accidentally opened one of her plain brown wrapped magazines—she subscribed to a rather graphic whips-and-chains periodical entitled ?BITCHES...

2 years ago
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Letter from Ivy Hill

LETTER FROM IVY HILLDear Shoeblossom: I am a female submissive. I never wanted to be, but my father raised me in a truly disciplinary fashion. My mother left us when I was young, and my father told me that he was going to teach me to not be a wandering slut like Ma. I think part of it, of course was that Pa wanted to get his hands on me. I am a curvy redhead, about five seven, and I’ve been that way since about sixth grade. I know that I was adopted when I was young, and my birth folks must’ve...

3 years ago
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Letter to a Nothing

Letter to a Nothing by Bridget StaceySynopsis: A wife's letter to her husband, telling him how he can expect their marriage to be in future. Copyright (c) 2009 Bridget Stacey [email protected](F/m, D/s, humiliation, nc, serious, transvestite, domestic femdom) Dear Nothing, I have noticed that you have been much nicer to me recently and much easier to deal with.  You have not spurted for quite a while now, have you?  You always behave much better to me when you have not spurted.  You can...

3 years ago
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Letter From Burlington

LETTER FROM BURLINGTON Dear Shoeblossom, ? How did I become a bald slave-pig to my husband and his waitress girlfriend? ? I'm an intelligent? Institutional Equity Sales Representative having worked at subsidiaries of AT&T, Disney, Rainbow Media Corporation and Liberty Media Corporation. I speak five languages and am a marathon runner. ? ?I work out every day and am considered beautiful by most men...what's wrong with me? ? I have (or had) full bodied, shoulder length curly copper hair, and...

4 years ago
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Letter Chronicles Amys Story

At my desk with coffee in hand, I take a break from working on tedious reports. Relaxing in my chair, I have a smile on my face as I think about the past couple of days. Hmm… my life has certainly taken a turn for the better after that meeting with Phillip.Glancing at my pen and stationery on the desk, I decide it’s time to write to my dear friend Susan about that night. After all, she is always encouraging me to get out more…March 12, 2019Dear SusanI hope this letter finds you fit and healthy...

Straight Sex
3 years ago
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Letter To My Miss

Dearest Miss,As I think of you, I say to myself, "My God, Jampu, you are such a little bitch." I continue to berate myself as if talking to my reflection in the mirror.'It is no wonder that Miss hesitated when you approached her, asking to be her sub.  It is as if she could see what a problem you might become.  How could she know that you would be so much trouble for her?  Perhaps, she had had others begging her domination.   She perhaps understood that having subs comes with difficult...

Lesbian
4 years ago
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Letter 1 From the Lost Letter Bin in Everheart North Dakota

ManagerArby's Restaurant2398 N. Myrtle StreetEverheart, ND Dear Arby's:My name is Amanda Featherbottom and I am writing to complain about what is going on at your Arby's restaurant located at 2398 N. Myrtle Street here in Everheart, North DakotaThere are these two boys who come to your restaurant every day between 2:30 and 2:45 in the afternoon after they get off work at the chicken processing plant. One is named Jason Tiberson, and the other is Orville Gast. Jason is the taller one with dark...

Humor
4 years ago
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Letter To Tommy

Part 1 Hi Tom, I know I have not written to you or even called since you left for divinity school too get away from me. I have been keeping track through mom. I understand that you now pastor a big Church down in Austin TX. I know it has been a very long time but tonight I have to write you. I would call you but I have a feeling it would be a very long phone call (provided that you would talk to me that is). I want to tell you what I have been doing and what I have gotten myself mixed up in....

3 years ago
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Letter To My Wife

My dearest wife, As I sit here and reminisce about the time that we have known each other, I am constantly reminded about the first time that we made love. Six years ago I finally plucked up enough courage to ask you on a date - I had spent two years admiring you from afar, never knowing if you would accept my offer of dinner, or if you would laugh in my face. It took my brother and your cousin to convince me to ask. Six weeks after talking with them, I finally got the courage and rang you...

3 years ago
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Letter from Walsingham

Dear Shoeblossom, Some years back you got a "letter from Combermere" from Tulke and Barcelona Spinelli...it was about their femdom marriage, as so many of your letters are, and their marriage ended in 2005. Tulke moved from Combermere, across the state to Walsingham. This is an update on how Tulke is doing. He was my best friend growing up, and now he is my male slave! I wasn't gay back in the day...but a lot of things happened between then and now, and I wanted to keep your readers abreast of...

3 years ago
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Letters

This story contains material that could be deemed offensive. If you are under 18 or easily offended, stay away. ----------------------------------------------- Letters ------------------- By Darkside. (c) [email protected] Comments to [email protected] After the horror of Incubus and the sweeping epic of Fury I've decided to write something a little lighter and shorter. Besides I owe Vickie Tern this story as part of a bet I lost :-( Before you ask, I know the...

1 year ago
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Letters From Rose

John Henry Bartlett III laid back on his bunk and closed his eyes, exhausted after another long day at sea. It had been another stressful day, causing him to question once again why he had joined the Navy. The answer was simple: his family legacy. Father and grandfather before him, along with scores of uncles and cousins…men in his family were supposed to be Navy men. He hadn’t even questioned it, the choice was made for him before he was born and he stepped into his role like a pair of...

2 years ago
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Letters From Rose

John Henry Bartlett III laid back on his bunk and closed his eyes, exhausted after another long day at sea. It had been another stressful day, causing him to question once again why he had joined the Navy. The answer was simple: his family legacy. Father and grandfather before him, along with scores of uncles and cousins…men in his family were supposed to be Navy men. He hadn’t even questioned it; the choice was made for him before he was born and he stepped into his role like a pair of...

Straight Sex
2 years ago
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Letter To Mother

Letter To Mother Growing up my dad was not around much because he wasn't a good cook. So he decided to leave it on my mother. He wanted her to be an at home mother while he worked his ass off 2-3 jobs in rotation. I barely saw him. When he did hang out we were like best friends honestly. Catch up and just bullshit about anything! Girls, school, video games, everything! Well I had just gotten home from school and it was Friday. Fresh start to my weekend. I sit down and turn on my Xbox and before...

1 year ago
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Letter to Staff

Everything here is fictional except the Web Site cited. Log on to it or this story only if of age, and only at your own risk. And meanwhile, a happy and deeply satisfying New Year to all of you! Letter to the Staff of sissify.com (as dictated to Vickie Tern) Dear Sissify Staff: I think you should know how my signing on with you has changed my life. I know I'm happier now by far, but that isn't up to me any more. My girlfriend...

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