An Unsent Letter

Dear... Sir:

Fuck it. I'm going to say it.

I fucking need you. I need you so badly. Physically and mentally. You've been on my mind nonstop and it's making me crazy.

The things I'd do to you... and let you do to me... are nothing short of immoral. I can't stop thinking about it. It fills my mind from the second I wake up, throughout the day, until I lay down at night.

It makes me ache to imagine it.

Let me lay it all out for you, right here, right now: I've been fantasizing about you tying my wrists above my head to the headboard, and blindfolding me, and doing the most sinful things to my body, my mind. And I'd let you.

Hell, I'd beg you for it, if you wanted me to.

I'd beg for you to use me like your toy. I want my body to make your body feel so damn good. Use me to get yourself off. Please. Treat me like your personal sex toy. Fuck me. Fill me up. Destroy me.

Let's be honest with each other, alright? No more self-censoring, no more maintaining boundaries, no more holding back. This has been a long time coming, hasn't it? I can see right through that professional, respectful demeanor you wear like a mask. I can hear what you really mean in those innocent compliments you so carefully slip into our conversations.

You hold eye contact with me, but only to keep yourself from fucking me with your eyes. You tell me I look lovely tonight, but you really mean you want to rip this skirt off my body. You offer me your arm while we walk, when you're really imagining pinning me down and pushing your body against mine.

Oh, it's alright... I'm thinking all of that too.

Do you want to know what else I'm thinking about?

I'm thinking about what you'd look like as you pull off your shirt while you keep your eyes locked on me.

I'm thinking about what your lips, your tongue, your sweat tastes like.

I'm thinking about the feeling of your strong hands grasping the back of my neck, my back, my hips, my ass.

I'm thinking about your thumb brushing my lower lip, and I'm thinking about whether or not you'd like me to suck on it while staring up into your eyes.

I'm thinking about you roughly pushing me down into your sheets.

I'm thinking about you pulling my panties aside and tasting me.

I'm thinking about how wet I'd be... and how wet I am right now.

I'm thinking about the orgasms I'd have at your fingertips.

I'm thinking about you kneeling behind me, pushing my face against the mattress, and pressing the tip of your cock against me.

I'm thinking about you slipping all the way in... to the hilt... and the sound you'd make as your body meets mine.

I'm thinking about you calling me your good girl, your pretty little slut, your perfect whore as you take what you so badly crave.

I'm thinking about what you might like to be called... Daddy? Sir? Master?

Maybe I'll just use your name.

I'm thinking about you increasing your speed and intensity, thrusting into me faster and faster as you let your desire take control of your body, your soul.

I'm thinking about you losing control and fucking me senseless, until the world around us becomes a blur.

I'm thinking about you breathlessly, desperately telling me you're about to cum, and I'm thinking of how I'd beg you to cum inside me, to make me yours, to ruin me.

I'm thinking of that heavenly sound you'd make as you explode inside me, riding the waves of pleasure you get from my pussy milking every last drop from your spasming cock... the sound and feeling of all that repressed desire leaving your body and entering mine. Those rough, gasping groans that tell me you've finally allowed yourself to enjoy me, fully.

I'm thinking about you finally collapsing against my back, our sweat mingling on our skin, as we both sink into the glow that follows such intense pleasure. The naughty little laughs we would have as we contemplate our sins.

That is what I need right now.... what I've needed for so long. I need you to massage that aching spot in my soul that I've been keeping hidden for the sake of "professionalism."

So what do you say? How about get it out of our systems... Sir?

Yours,

Me