I will be kissing your lovely breasts, your belly, your thighs

Before I met you, I was only half a man. Oh, yes, I had a sort of life, but I now know that it was only partially satisfying. I was meant to be your mate, as you were meant to be mine — hand, head, heart, spirit, and, most importantly, body.

Back in high school, I had already been with Karen. I’d thought that what I felt for her was love, never having experienced the real thing. We’d dated for some time. We’d progressed from kissing to petting. The last summer, we’d gotten into the habit of petting in a glade when we could get out for an evening.

The fateful evening, we’d kissed as the sun went down. As the long twilight slowly faded, I’d petted her and kissed her and removed one piece of her clothing after another. In the full dark, she had at last allowed me to remove her panties. With the rising of the nearly-full moon, I’d seen her nakedness clearly. She’d looked weirdly spiritual in that light. I’d kissed her breasts and stroked the groove between her legs until she had lost all will to say no. She had taken me in her arms and given me a deep soul kiss. I’d forgotten all my reservations; the only thing which had remained was my lust. But she hadn’t resisted when I stripped off my jeans and moved above her. Instead, she’d spread her knees apart to make room and hugged me. My first time had felt glorious; I’d thrust into her, moved in and out no more than two times, and erupted. Even so, she’d hugged me while she cried.

The next day, however, she had decided that it had been a mistake; we had been a mistake. She’d gone off to school with a quite-final goodbye to me.

Had I gone directly to the University, everything would have been different. Instead, as you know, I took two years in the junior college in Springfield. It is within driving distance of my home.

If I had only gone directly to the University, we would have met. I would have seen that we were meant for each other, and I would have persuaded you. There would have been no Barbara and no Hank. We would have dated; I would have courted you rather than pressuring you. I would have waited until you were ready, because it would have meant your being as ready for me as I was ready for you.

Then, when we were both ready, knowing that we were intended for each other, I would have found somewhere absolutely private. We would have kissed until you wanted more. I would have petted your sweet breasts until you accepted my hands on your warm thighs. I would have brought you to a first, preparatory, climax. Then, both willing, both eager, both stark naked, we would have come together. I would have taken precautions. You would have welcomed me into your body. I would have stroked within you until you would have had a second climax. That pleasure would have been mutual. We would have rested in each others’ arms afterwards. We would have been safe, private, together, and both in love.

Instead, you were going with Hank. You were experiencing pressure, mental cruelty, and his greed for your beauty.

And I was going with Barbara. She was not being a slut, but neither was she being a coy tease. When we had dated, gotten to know one another, petted in my car, we were both anticipating the next step. She was inviting me to her room, and I was making sure that I brought contraceptives. We were dancing a ritual, but we were both expecting the conclusion which occurred. Early in the evening, we were on her bed petting. Later, we were slipping under the sheets, Then I was slipping into her. I was enjoying myself; she was enjoying herself. I was thinking that what I felt was love; maybe she was thinking the same thing.

We were dating, and petting, and sleeping together until we got our associate degrees. But, by then, we were not planning to continue. Then I did come to the University, we did meet. It took a while for you to grow beyond Hank, but you did.

We did begin the relationship that was our fate. We did date, and more. You did come to realize that I am your fated true love. Finally, one weekend, Tom did go home for Thanksgiving; we did stay on campus. We did come back from our date to my room. You did come to trust me; and, I think, I did justify that trust. When you finally did trust me with your naked beauty, I didn’t rush to possess it and to pierce it. We did already share our spirits; sharing our bodies, however necessary that was, didn’t have to be that instant.

Instead, appreciating your beauty, I did appreciate your trust and your courage still more. I did try to kiss all of your beautiful, newly revealed, skin. When you didn’t let me kiss some parts, I did prevail in kissing the center of your feelings. You did reach a climax before I had touched you with more than hands and mouth.

Then, you did accept me into your beauty. Belonging totally to each other, we did merge. I did feel your ultimate clasp; and, believe me my darling, I did feel the ultimate pleasure within your warm center. I did feel that it was the ultimate pleasure of my life. But, I didn’t leave you unprotected when I did. And you, you will remember, did join me in the sensation which came from letting our bodies free our spirits. And, afterwards, we didn’t part except to arrange the covers. We did sleep in each others’ arms for our first night together. And, if that had been the best night of my life up to then, some nights that succeeded it were as happy; and many were nearly as happy. Those experiences, however, did occur only with you. For, if Tom returned to be an interfering presence, if we could spend few nights actually sleeping together after that, we did have time together.

Our spirits were one continually, when we were far apart as well as when our bodies were close, but agonizingly separated by the eyes of the other students in the cafeteria or on the quads. Our bodies, though, had the rare occasions to be one like our spirits. At first, the cold was our duenna, then the rain.

I remember, though, the first day you agreed that the weather was dry enough for us. I’d found a woody spot between two fields and close to a farm road that would hold the car. We put down a tarp with a blanket on top. We slipped off our shoes to stand on the blanket kissing. Slowly, we slid down until we were lying side by side still kissing. You returned my caresses until I told you how hard it was for me to control myself when you did. “But why control yourself?” you asked. “I’m ready.” If you weren’t quite as ready as you thought you were, my hands while I stripped the both of us and my kisses on all your lips took care of that. When my control disappeared altogether and I thrust into you, you climaxed around me. I followed within seconds. I enjoyed my climax, the physical sensations were incredible, but the spiritual feelings from your climax were even more soul-satisfying.

Neither of us was finished for the day. We kissed and petted and kissed. When you couldn’t wait any longer, you applied the condom for the first time. Even then, even as excited as I was, I could last longer than I expected. I stroked through your climax and brought you to another. That taught us something about being together. The first time was delightful, not to be missed, ecstatic. The second time was more gentle, more extended, even more erotic. Only the chill of the evening forced us back to our separate dorms.

If the peculiar luster of the first time with your fated mate is impossible to duplicate, we have — at least — repeated the physical. We have kissed hundreds of times in public. We have really kissed scores of times when we could find the privacy to do so. I have kissed you on your more concealed lips repeatedly when we have been able to find the time and the privacy for the activity. We have caressed each other until the touches were torture. Then we have joined our bodies. I have nuzzled your lovely breasts until we both wanted more. I have toyed with your secret center with my fingers until you wanted something more substantial. I have entered into your welcoming, slick, heat. I have stroked within that warmth. You have clasped around me in repeated spasms. We have cuddled together in peace — if too brief peace — afterwards.

Oh, that you were here now, that we could practice what we’ve learned. Oh that I could show you what I’ve figured out from what we experienced. I would find a place and a time for us to spend an entire day and an entire night together. I would kiss and hug you fully clothed. I would remove your clothes slowly, kissing each newly-revealed piece of skin. Then, I would ask that you to avoid arousing me more than the sight and taste of you and the feel of you beneath my hands arouses me. I would bring you to the brink of your first climax with my hand, but I would carry you over with the most intimate of kisses. These would not stop, though. When you told me that you were at the brink again, I would enter you gently. I would stroke within until you came again, and I would go on if I could resist.

My climax would be the signal for us to play all the games of mutual petting we have learned. I’m certain these would be delightful. And I would try to express my delight while I was experiencing it. I would try not to wait until later, as I have far too often. If you would express your feelings then, too, it would be delightful Our second time would be — I’m certain — as delightful as our second time on the blanket beside the fields was. For we would strive to please ourselves in striving to please each other.

For I am certain that this is the essence of our love. I love you, and I’m sure that you love me. But I also love us, and I think you do, too.

When we merely hold hands, I want more; but I do enjoy the touch, and I do enjoy being the couple that holding hands symbolizes. When we kiss with our mouths closed, I want more; but I do enjoy the kiss and I do enjoy the being Kristen’s lover that the kiss symbolizes. When our tongues touch, I want more; but I do thrill to that touch, and I thrill to have you as my love symbolized in that touch. When I hug your clothed body, I want more. (I think you can detect that from my hardness against your belly.) But I do enjoy the hug and the union of our spirits that the clasp of our bodies symbolizes. When I stroke your skin, I want more; but I do delight in the smoothness of your skin, especially the smooth skin of your sweet breasts. And I do cherish the trust that you show me in allowing me to touch that smoothness. When I play with your nipples, I want more; but I do enjoy their beauty, and I certainly enjoy their stiffening response which shows that you do enjoy my touch there, too. When I suckle on those nipples, I want more; but I do enjoy the feel of you against my lips and tongue, and I do enjoy being, not only your lover, but your baby. And I do enjoy feeling the stiffening between my lips that symbolizes another stiffening between your lips down below.

When I kiss those lips, I want more — I want completion. But I do revel in every sensation that I receive from the experience before the completion. I do breathe deep of the aroma which tells me that you are as aroused as I am, that we — the couple that is we — is aroused in every part, female half as much as male half. I do press my face against our curls to appreciate one more aspect of your beauty. When I have parted your outer lips, I do kiss the inner ones — guardians of your feminine center, guardians of the place where we join most closely. I do enjoy the feel of that smoothness. When I lick the inner lips apart, I want more — I want a whole other part of my body to be parting them; but I do enjoy the action, and I especially do enjoy the taste. When I reach your most sensitive point, I want more; but I do love to taste you and feel your clitoris tremble under my tongue. I do enjoy my anticipation of your response. When that response comes, I want more. I do long for that response to be around me. But I do enjoy your response, do glory in the satisfaction of that peak, do experience that it is Conrad and Kristen — our united spirits — which is climaxing. When I suck your clitoris at the peak of your climax, I want more; but I do enjoy the feeling of the hot, responsive, bud between my lips. I do enjoy experiencing your joy vicariously through my lips.

When I finally enter you, I do want more; I want to thrust all of me into you, to merge in body as we are merged in spirit. But I certainly do enjoy the experience. I do love the heat with which you surround me. I do appreciate the slickness as I slide in. I do sense the union of our bodies symbolizing the union of our spirits. As I glide back and forth within you, I want more — I desperately want my culmination. But I do enjoy the sensations; I do enjoy my motions within you; I do appreciate most of all your responsive thrusts making that dance a duet rather than a solo. I do glory when you tighten around me in a deliberate hug, but I want still more. I want the clasp and flutter around me of your involuntary response. And, when that happens, I want even more, I want to join you. At that moment, however, no matter how overcome I am with the last stages of my lust, I do enjoy the physical sensations you give me. I do participate in the climax, our climax. For we do climax whenever one of us does; we are one entity.

And, when I follow you, I want still more. I want it to last forever, and it simply will not. I do enjoy my sensations at that point, but I also enjoy that we are climaxing again. The single spirit which is Conrad and Kristen does participate in whatever either of the two bodies achieves. And, I do believe, you feel that unity, too.

For what one does, both do. What one feels, both feel. What one experiences, both experience. I hold your breast, and it is my breast and your hand. I suckle your nipple, and it is my nipple and your mouth. I taste your ear, and it is my ear and your tongue. I stroke your thighs, and it is my thighs and your fingers. You cup my balls, and it is your balls and my palm. I taste your sweetness, and it is my secretions and your tongue. You open yourself, and I am being opened as well. I enter your warmth, and it is your rod and my sheath. You come, and I feel the release. When I come, do you not feel it, too?

As any release by one of us is a release of Conrad and Kristen, then it is a favor to me if you seek your release now. Not with another, that would violate our trust, but with yourself and with whatever participation I can provide.

Are you alone? Are you comfortable? Then I am with you in this letter. Stroke your breasts as if it’s my hand stroking them. Play with your nipples as my fingers love to play with them. When they are stiff enough, stoke your thighs — gently, softly, upwards toward your center. Resist going further, as I always resist. When the resistance is too difficult, proceed to your mound. Play with the outer lips, beautifully adorned with those sweet curls. When they have puffed enough, part them to feel the slickness of the inner ones. Keep your strokes on those feather light. When the moisture is flowing out, part them. Press one finger between to sample the tears of joy. Bring that moisture upwards towards the nodule which is your bud of pleasure. Stroke there, but return often to the groove to renew the lubrication. Keep stroking until you reach your climax.

There! Did that feel like my spirit was participating? Was that a climax experienced by Conrad and Kristen?

For I want to join you. I am joining you.

Right now, I’m stroking my own pygmy nipples. I’m pretending that they are yours; I’m pretending that the hand stroking my nipples is yours. I’m removing my jeans and underpants, pretending that you are doing it. (Except when I’m typing — that takes both hands) I’m cupping my balls and gently rolling them back and forth with my fingers. I’m imagining that those are your fingers, although you do it much better than I do. Now that my erection has begun, I’m stroking it pretending that those are you fingers stroking. I’m beginning to breathe hard, and I’m pretending that this is your breath that I hear. Now that I’m stiff, I’m stroking back and forth pretending that I’m in your sheath. I’m adding a bit of hand lotion and pretending that it is your moisture. My hips are rolling as they do when they drive me into and out of you. I’m grasping myself in imitation of your sweet clasps at your climax. There! I’m coming.

And, now, I’m cleaning off the keyboard. That was us. Did you feel it? Did my description communicate anything of the passion I feel for you?

I have rented a private room outside the dorm system with the money I’m earning this summer. I’ll keep it for the school year. Your parents might not let you formally move in with me; but we’ll have a place to come to, however cold it gets. Your father insists that we don’t get married before you graduate, but I’ll have a real job then. We can have the wedding and begin official married life then. We’ll already have some experience of being a couple.

I’ll have stocked up on contraceptives in a place reachable from the bed where no nosy parkers will ever have been able to search. We’ll have gone to sleep in each others’ arms and woken up in the morning with my arms wrapped around you. We’ll have escaped dorm monitors and roommates. We’ll have greeted each other in the morning with a kiss.

I’ll have held your sweet breast in my sleep and kissed it as soon as you awake. We’ll have breakfasted lightly on sweet rolls bought the night before. We’ll have returned to bed for a long session of petting. Slowly, with only your own passions hurrying you, you’ll have opened your legs to me. Slowly and gently, with only my own lust driving me — and a recently sated lust at that — I’ll have stroked your lips and your clit. At our own pace, without an external deadline, I’ll have entered you. We’ll have stayed like that as long as we could resist motion, savoring the final union. Then, I’ll have started moving as slowly as I’ll have been able to. When, finally, our passion will have overcome our restraint, I’ll have plunged in and out of you. We’ll have exploded together. We’ll have rested again in each others’ arms.

Maybe we’ll have dozed again. Maybe, on a good weekend, we’ll have repeated the entire experience. In any case, Conrad and Kristen will have honed the ability of that couple to express their love in passion — to join their bodies in an even better imitation of the fusion of their spirits.

Finally married, we’ll be in a position to decide our own future. We’ll have limits, everybody does, but we’ll decide what to do — how to live — within those limits. Will we need your salary? Quite probably; we both have debts. In any case, you’ve taken an education to participate in the wide world, and that education has limited what you can do. The marriage is unlikely to be the time to shut you up in a house. But we shall decide. If we decide that you would fulfill yourself more in the workplace than as a housewife and mother, then we should continue with contraception. I should continue to sheathe myself in rubber every time before I enter your warmth. Perhaps later, you should take that responsibility. Perhaps you should — as a married woman who can go to doctor and druggist without embarrassment — go on the pill. There are also diaphragms. Women usually insert them themselves, but maybe it would express our being a couple, sharing everything possible, if I should insert it into you. With either method, we shouldn’t pet and prepare as we do now before I don the condom. We should begin our loving with you shielded against the possibility of pregnancy. Then we should kiss before going to bed.

We should kiss in the bed, as well. I should move my kisses from your lips to the rest of your torso. If the room is warm enough to have you lie naked without the covers, I should spend an entire hour on that process alone. Instead of hastening from your lips to your breasts, I should take the scenic route by way of your arms and legs. The breasts, though, should have the attention that hints at their worth. I should cover every inch of each with kisses. Then, I should choose a nipple. While that occupies my mouth, my fingers should stroke the insides of your smooth thighs. You shouldn’t open them until you really need more stimulation. Then, I should play with the hair on your mound and the lips below it.

Only after that, should I part those lips to find the center of your excitement. I should fetch upward the lubrication you have provided there for a stroke or two. Then, I should go back for more lubrication. Only when you demand it should I remain there continually until we experience your climax. Soon after, it should be time for our bodies to be more nearly one.

Because of our choice as to the means of contraception, I should enter you totally naked. I should feel your smoothness and warmth even more immediately than I have already.

And, when you should hug me with your inner warmth, it should be me that you hug, not some wrapped version of me. Then, I should stroke within you as slowly as possible in that state of excitement. My climax should be the climax of Conrad and Kristen — just as yours should have been. With any luck and any control on my part, though, it should be the climax of both bodies inhabited by our one spirit.

Then, we — in our own room in our own home, the recognized right of a married couple — we should lie hugging each other until it should be time for sleep. Then you should drift off with my arms still around you. And we should awaken in the morning still in that clasp. And — two mornings out of seven — we should have no duties awaiting us in the outer world. If we should choose to reprise in the morning our behavior of the night before, there should be only us two to consult as to the rightness of that choice.

But we have each said that we want children. The time will come when we put away all contraception. On that night, I will enter you with no barrier between us. But we won’t start like that. The child we desire is a child of our spirits and a child of our love as well as a child of our bodies. So, we will begin with our love. We will kiss and hug still dressed and standing. Then I will undress you, and I will kiss every piece of skin that I uncover. When I have removed your panties, you will go to bed while I, too, will strip before joining you there. Then, to express that love, I will kiss again everywhere I have kissed before, ending with your beautiful thighs. Then, I will continue on to the parts left unkissed. Having kissed your mound, having kissed each of your sweet outer labia, I will part them and kiss your inner labia. These I will lick open, gently, taking my time, appreciating them. When the road is open, you will raise and spread your knees. Then, only then, will I enter you. And I will stroke within you, within your smoothness, within your warmth, within the open path to your fertile womb. And the time of preparation, the time of tasting you and sniffing your arousing aroma, the time of feeling your slickness and readiness for me, will lead me to a veritable eruption. The force of my discharge will pour my sperm into you and towards your welcoming womb. Then I will have to rest for a moment.

You, too, will be resting, lying on your back. While you stay like that, I will pet you again. I will kiss your lovely nipples and stroke your delightful clit until you achieve another climax. For the doctors tell us that such a climax will dip your cervix into the pool of sperm I’ll leave in your vagina. This is the way we will encourage conception. And, until we know that conception has occurred, we will repeat that every night.

Nor will that knowledge signal the end of our lovemaking. If our child will be conceived in love and erotic delight, it will be nurtured the same way. I will kiss your lips; I will suckle the breasts so you may practice for feeding your child; I will stroke and kiss the path that my child will take out of you. If my weight on your belly causes discomfort when that belly is sheltering a child, we will find other — more comfortable — ways to join our bodies. I will continue to express my love for you by hands and lips. And I will send more of what made our child into the passage as a message of future welcome.

Then, we will be parents. But we will still be lovers. Within our family, we will be speaking fondly, we will be kissing and hugging. Our children will be experiencing our demonstrative love for them and will be observing our demonstrative love for each other.

We will be restricting the more erotic activities to absolute privacy. But, as the parents in the household, we will be deciding the rules. In privacy, I will be kissing more than your face. I will be kissing your lovely breasts, your belly, your thighs, and the ultimate sweetness between your thighs. In privacy, you will be patting more than my shoulder.

You will be tweaking my nipples — insignificant compared to yours, but you seem to like them. You will be rubbing your hand down my torso. You will be cupping my balls. You will be guiding my cock into you. In privacy, we will be enacting the ritual which brought us together, which will bring us a family. In privacy, with no one there but Conrad and Karen, we will be cresting the heights of orgasm together again and again.

In love, I am

Your Conrad