The
Fantasy Letter
It’s been a few days since I read
that article online called the “Fantasy Letter.”
This indie author spoke of a
technique that could be used by spouses to spice up their marriage. The online
spot got dozens of positive reviews, and to be honest, Taylor and I have a
great relationship. But lately, with the winter coming on, we’ve been spending
less time outside and the cold weather had us doing little more than cuddling
up on the couch and watching movies inside.
We needed an intimacy boost. So I
took Clarke’s advice and wrote up a quick fantasy
request…something I had dreamt of and kept only to myself, and placed the handwritten
letter in his lunch bag the one day. According to Clarke, the fantasy must be
fulfilled by the reader within seven days. Monday would mark it’s end, and it
being Saturday evening, I was feeling a bit let down. I’d been quite the hot
mess all week, and enjoying long showers with my little friend didn’t give me
the pleasure I sought from a pair of arms wrapped around my body and their matching
lips kissing me in ways that I hadn’t felt in weeks.
On the
bus ride home from work, I get a text from Taylor.
I read
your letter the other day.
My
heart begins to race. I had never spoke to him about the things I mentioned in
that letter. I hope he’s not mad with me. After some hesitation, I text him
back, curious of his reaction.
Did
you? What do you think honey?
-I had no idea you
like that sort of thing.
My
anticipation grew exponentially, as I was unsure whether he was upset with me
or not. I text back.
Are
you upset with me?
-Let’s just say…It
starts the moment you get in the door.
I lower the phone into my purse.
Holy shit. He bit! Looking out the window of the bus as it neared my
neighbourhood I wondered how he’d entertain the thought of domination and
submission with me. I had secretly wanted to be told one night. I wanted to be controlled,
to be mastered, to be directed by my lover in different ways. I wanted more
than anything, to submit myself, totally and completely, to the man I was so in
love with.
My daydream out at the scrolling
cityscape was interrupted by the squeal of the bus’ brakes at it came to a stop
in front of our house. I quickly get off the center steps and walk to the front
door, eager to know what my quiet-at-times husband has in store for me and my
fantasy request.
I turn
the lock and let myself in.
“Hi honey.
I’m home.” I look around for Taylor and all I see is a note on the floor. I
pick it up and read it with a whisper.
There will be two Acts in
tonight’s performance.
Enter Act One.
“Hey beautiful. So glad you’re
home.”
I look past the letter and
guiltily crumple it in my hand, reaching to place it quickly in my coat pocket,
as if I’d been suddenly caught with something. Down the hallway I see Taylor.
Immediately my senses startle me. Something is quite peculiar. In fact, many
things are peculiar. I slowly take them in as I reach for my coat buttons,
trying not to look astonished.
I see
Taylor walking toward me with a smooth even stride, slower than usual. His
shoulders back, chest out, and a smile on his face. He is not wearing the usual
track pants and beer shirt that I put up with everyday, but instead is suited
up in a silver tuxedo and navy blue tie. The tie brings out his beautiful eyes
which I fell in love with when we first met years ago in our twenties.
“Here,
let me take that, sweetheart.” He reaches for the last of my buttons with one
hand as he lifts my purse from my shoulder and sets it down on the bench
nearby. “How was your day at work?”
“Uh, it
was…fine,” I respond, incredulity filling my mind. Taylor gently removes my
coat and reaches behind me to hang it up on the rack. I take a moment to inhale
the air around me. The unmistakable scent of our favorite cologne surrounds
him. It perks my nose and makes me exhale contentedly.
“Leg
please,” Taylor demands firmly as he drags the bench in front of him requesting
to remove my footwear. I stare in disbelief as he unzips each of my boots and
places them aside. He never even gets off
the couch! What is going on?
“Now,
come, and join me for dinner, sweetheart. Everything is ready.”
He
takes my hand and gives me a soft kiss on the lips, then leads me into the
dining room, which is illuminated by soft candlelight. The murmer of soft jazz
fills the distance as he leads me to my seat and holds it out for me.
“Did you
actually cook tonight?” I ask, still wondering if, in fact, I am in my own
house.
“Of
course. Lamb Chops with Pesto Croute. Crème Brulee follows…”
I take
my seat, still unsure of what all this is, and he tucks me in. Taylor then
lifts the covers off our meals to reveal a steaming plate of lamb with crushed
pesto and baby greens. He pours me a glass of my favorite red wine and slowly
takes his seat…all without taking his eyes off me.
“I’m
not even dressed. Look at me. Look at you!”
Taylor
slowly lifted his glass and motioned me to do the same. “I am looking at the
most beautiful woman in my life, the one woman I just had to have and never let
go. Cheers. Here’s to tonight, where I will hold on even tighter to the woman I
admire so deeply.”
The
glasses clinked and I took a sip of the Zinfandel.
All through dinner, Taylor was the gentleman I know, though
he had faded slightly in more recent times. I don’t know, life happens I guess.
People get busy. We have our jobs. Stresses. But the more we dig into our
obligations, its important that we remember why we fell in love. And I have a
feeling, tonight’s lesson is on Mr. Clarke.
Now
wrapping up dessert, I see an almost cocky gaze from the man sitting across
from me.
“Was
dinner to your liking?”
“Yes.
You really cooked all this?”
“Of
course.”
I turned my head slightly and squinted, then let out a
chuckle. This man of mine has surprised me enough in the last hour. I can’t
wait to see what else he has up his sleeve.
Lifting
from his seat, he reaches for the empty plates and sets them in the
dishwasher.
“I’d like you to finish the rest of that Zinfandel while I
go run you a bath. Then I’ll clear the rest of the table so everything is nice
and clean down here while you bathe. I don’t want you to lift a finger for this
place.” He passes me by but first lowers his head to where I’m seated and
kisses me softly on the forehead. Then, in seconds, he disappears up the
stairs.
I sit
there, consuming the wine, and look down at the table, candles still burning
with a soft glow. He did all this for me.
Everything so perfect. What’s come over him?
Soon my contemplation is axed by
a set of warm hands on my shoulders. Taylor’s lips find my neck, just under the
ear, and I reach up and hold his hand with mine and smile.
“Go on
up. You have bubbles and everything. I’ll take care of this.
I head
up the steps, still smiling, and make my way into the bedroom, from where I can
see the bath, lined with deep red rose petals along its edge, and a few candles
lit to create a darksome ambiance.
As I
remove my clothes and set them aside, I find one more note on the bed. I pick
it up and note the handwriting:
And now, for Act Two, my Loyal
Lola.
Enjoy your bath. This is just the
beginning…
A tingle ran through my belly, as
I read these words. I’ve never been so curious about anything Taylor has said,
out of mouth, or on paper. Since when did he become a poet?
I slipped into the hot bubbly
water and let it soothe every muscle in my body. Lowering myself further in the
tub, the waterline crept up over my nipples until only my shoulders and head
were perched above, my hair still in the big power bun I set in the morning.
Minutes passed, and I splashed
the end of the tub with my toes, bubbles everywhere, my heart content from the
surprise pampering this evening. Suddenly, I see the door that connects the
washroom to our bedroom slowly close, and the light in the groove under the
door go dim.
What the fuck?
“Taylor?” I yell, confusedly.
Moments later, the paper from the bed slid under the door with a swoosh, and
came to land face up near the tub.
Act Two.
It’s time to see what this is all
about, so I get up out of the tub and wrap myself in a towel. I walk over and
push open the door.
It is at that moment, that I feel
I’ve stepped into some kind of movie…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I look
around the room and see its corners illuminated with the soft gleam of
candlelight. A definite ambiance of darkness and mystery embraces me. Soon I’m
startled by the presence of a dark figure sitting in the recliner by the
window.
“Taylor?
What are you doing?”
“There’s
a box on the bed, Lola. Open it.”
Hearing his familiar voice, I’m comforted, and decide to
entertain his request. I walk over to the large cardboard box and lift the lid.
Inside I find several items of clothing, though few of which I doubt he’d let
me wear out in public.
“I’m
going to be your Master tonight, my loyal Lola, and if you’ll submit yourself
to me tonight, I will bring you all the passion and pleasure you deserve.”
A rush
of adrenaline floods across my chest. I look at my love’s eyes in the flicker
of candlelight and he sees my slow nod and cracks the merest of smiles. Still
in his suit, he sits back with one leg crossed, an unusual level of confidence,
almost arrogance about him as he stares at me. Maybe he has tuned into my
fantasy letter will full effort. I continue to play along, and let my towel
fall to the ground.
“You
want me to wear these clothes for you?”
“Yes.
All of it.”
One by
one, I slip into each item of clothing, transforming myself into his play toy.
I fasten on a lacey black bra. Sliding each strap over my shoulders after I
clasp it together, I see a patience in my Master’s eyes. He waits and admires
every movement of my hands along my body. He watches quietly as I slide on a
black skirt, way shorter than anything I own, but flowy enough that it could be
lifted for any ensuing action. His beautiful eyes never leave my legs as I
raise each foot onto the edge of the bed and slip on a pair of lacey black
thigh highs. At the foot of the bed are a new pair of knee high black wedge
boots. I step into each one and zip them up.”
“Do it slow.” He growls, watching
the slow movement of my hands up each leg. He loves my legs. Can’t keep his
hands off the touch of my skin. And I have a feeling tonight will be no
exception on whatever these boots don’t cover.
“You’re going to be my dark
princess tonight. How does everything feel?”
“Everything feels perfect.” I
take a few steps in my comfortable new boots and turn around to look at him,
slapping my hands on my thighs. “How do I look?”
“Beyond perfect. Except, you need
one more thing…to be my princess.”
Taylor slowly gets up from his
chair and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a black leather collar.
“Come here.” I approach, a smile
on my face.
“Turn around.” I pivot on my heel
and wait.
Moments later I feel a band of
soft leather press around my neck and it draws snug as my master secures its
latch. I turn to look at it in a nearby mirror and place my hand on it. Solid
black with a small heart locket hanging from a single link. I feel the warmth
of my Masters face as his jawline nears my neck and he speaks to me.
“Now, you are complete. You are
my dark princess. And you will give yourself to me so that I may give all my
love and passion to you.”
Thrilled with the unfamiliarity
of it all, I’m instantly silenced. All I can do is nod as I look in the tall
mirror not far away, the reflection of his tall suited body near me, my body a
perfectly wrapped gift for him to unravel.
“Now what?” I finally ask, my
voice returning amidst the rush of nerves.
“Now, you will not speak unless I
ask you to speak. You will do only what I ask you to. You will give what I want
to take, and you will take what I want to give to you. Do you understand,
princess?”
Knowing I was no longer in the
position to toy with his authority, I nodded in silence, and awaited my first
instruction.
Taylor began to instruct me with
a dark tone in his voice.
“Stand over here and face me.
Good. Now, let me see your hands. Show them to me.”
I raised my hands to his chest,
palms down. He took them in his hands and lifted them to his nose, slowly
inhaled the sweet scent of my skin, then issued each one a slow, soft kiss. He
then lowered them and while holding them in one hand, he reached into his
pocket and withdrew a length of braided cotton rope.
My thoughts are instantly teased,
as I never thought I’d be the subject of bondage. He whips the rope to his
side, straightening the odd tangle, and proceeds to draw it over my wrists. I
watch quietly, enjoying the feel of the soft cotton fibres slithering around my
wrists as he binds them with an intricate pattern of wraps and knots. I bite my
lower lip just long enough to soothe my anxieties but release quick enough that
my Master does not see my actions.
He looks at me, flickers of light
in his hungry eyes.
“Too tight?”
I shake my head.
“Good. Don’t move.”
Taylor walks over to the back of
the room and extinguishes a few candles, further darkening one side of the
bedroom. He then saunters to the closet and removes his tuxedo jacket and fixes
it neatly on a hanger. He then returns to his side of the bed, several feet
away from where I’m standing, and begins to undo his cuff links, the whole time
staring at me with a darkness that nearly makes me uneasy.
I trust him, and wait patiently,
not sure of what his, or my, actions are next.
He then places on the bed a soft
cloth bag and opens it, withdrawing a thick black leather harness, with large
chrome latches in the middle and on either end. He carries it in one hand,
looking almost like a long paddle hanging from his grip. Surely he won’t be
striking me with that!
But I trust him.
He walks over and stands in the
doorway between our bedroom and the hallway, then turns to me.
“Come.”
I walk to him slowly, the sound
of my boots on the floor signal my compliance. I come to stop inches from his
face and our eyes meet without a word for the longest of moments.
I wait, hands bound in front of
my moistening crease.
He sets the leather harness
aside, and raises his other hand and pulls apart his necktie with one smooth
motion. His eyes travel up and down my body. I can see that he is beginning to
lose a bit of patience in my presence. I am his gift, to be unravelled and
consumed in any way he desires. I am the epitome of his living desires, and it
makes me beyond pleased to be the one who brings each and every need and want
of his to fruition.
I watch him trace the palm of his
hand along the side of my body, from waist to cheek, the soft silken tie
between his palm and my skin. He cradles my jaw and pulls me in for another
soft kiss. I feel a slight tension in the bridge above his lip. I can tell he
is fighting to restrain his control as he smells my skin. God how he loves my
skin. My soft outer shell melts him every time. But tonight, he will not show
weakness as I obey his every command.
Pulling back, he finally speaks.
“You will do as I say, and you
will listen to, and know what you do to me.”
He slowly wraps the girthiest
portion of his tie over my eyes and affixes the other end in a gentle knot
behind my head. I become even more aroused by the lack of sight and the scent
of his cologne now drifting just above my nose.
After a long moment, I hear his
voice again.
“Kneel.”
I lower to my knees, hands still
bound, and await his next instruction.
“Undo me,” he commands, his voice
more of a whisper than a growl at this point.
I reach forward and feel along
the soft material of his pants until my hands stumble onto a large bulge. A
guilty smile etches across my face and I say not a word, as I begin to unbuckle
his belt and undo his pants. With some difficulty, I finally free his belt and
pants from his waist, and pull down his silk boxers to let his hard cock spring
free.
“I want you to taste my desire.”
I flinched at those words, and
tightened my legs together. My Master is blending his dirty thoughts with mine
so well tonight, I don’t think I ever want this to end. I meet his request and
stroke his erect member with my hands. My own desires are confirmed as I feel
pre-cum oozing all over my thumbs. My Master wants me.
I lean forward and begin to lick
the head of his erection. I suddenly hear a slow, pleasurable exhale inches
above me in that doorway. He tastes so good that I want more. So I open up and
slide more into my mouth, then wrap my lips around him and suck until I hear a
startled groan from deep in his own throat. I pull away, my tongue being the
last thing to mate with his head, and a ribbon of pre-cum draws apart as his
breathing becomes hard. I know he is watching my every move. My playfulness
charges a current of adrenaline through every vein in his body as he flexes and
mumbles incoherent pleasures through his lips.
I want to wrap my hands around
his back side and pull him deep in my mouth for a moment, but with hands tied,
it will not happen. Instead, I reach up, under his dress shirt, and feel his
warm abs reciprocate as he inhales, exhales, and I continue my tease on his
cock by licking his head and sucking on it just the way he likes. Soon, I am
able to make my Master speak again.
“See….what you do to me? Can you
feel my need? Can you hear every ounce of my want for you?” I pull away and
whisper back.
“Yes, Master.”
I know I’m breaking him. My
wonderful Taylor knew just what I wanted when he read my letter, but I figure
this fetish would be a great test of strength for the two of us. I fucking love it!
“Stand up.”
I do as I am told, surprised that
he doesn’t want my mouth around him longer.
“I’m going to secure your hands
and arms above you. You will then remain standing so I can admire every inch of
you.”
I raise my hands into the air,
and hear the clang of buckles. Taylor must be securing that contraption to the
ceiling. Then, right in the middle of the doorway, I feel my hands lifted up
high and hooked into the harness.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes. For now.”
“Good. Now I will admire you, in
any way I desire.”
The feeling was both unusual and
intense, as, still blindfolded, I felt on display to a world I could not see
around me. I heard the sound of Taylor’s pants and belt hit the floor, and
assumed by now that he was in nothing more than his shirt and shorts…maybe
less.
It was then evident that my
Master was standing behind me. The warmth of his chest through his suit shirt
radiated on my back, and I felt the hyper-soft tickle of his fingers as they
skated down my bound arms, from wrist to shoulder.
I tried very hard to flinch, but
it was useless. I am so ticklish, that I ended up flinging my arms about,
pivoting on my boots, giggling from my lover’s actions.
“Don’t move unless I tell you to
move.”
I nodded then let out a long
exhale while attempting to concentrate on my posture while savoring his
powerful touch. His touch now came in the form of lips, which he dotted against
every place on my body where he could see bare skin. Slow, sweet, and sensual
was his pace, and it felt like a blissful eternity while I surrendered myself
to him.
“One second.” I waited…and
waited.
Not far away, I hear the sound of
liquid trickling into a glass. The
Zinfandel!
“My Princess must be thirsty.
Here. Drink.”
I feel the rim of a champagne
glass touch my lips and he tilts it gently as I consume the entire glass,
several sips at a time. The taste is wonderful, and I swallow nearly all of it,
a few drops falling on my chest. I giggle, feeling more blissful as the night
progresses.
“Let’s clean that wine up.”
Not a moment later, I feel my bra
spring loose. He unclasps the shoulder straps and tosses my lacey top aside and
has his way with me. The stubble around his lips grazes my chest as he licks
off the few drops of wine and eventually takes one of my nipples in his mouth.
They both get erect, one in his hand, the other in his mouth, and his tongue
dances around, gently lashing my hard-tipped breast with his mouth.
--
His mouth moves from one of my
boobs to the other. Gentle sucks and licks abound. He feels my chest heave as
he nips at my breasts, driving me crazy and making me very wet. I shift about
on my boots, a slight strain on my arms.
He notices and stops.
“Are you uncomfortable.”
“No. I’m fine. Keep going.”
“What?” he demands sternly.
“Please, keep going, Master.”
Soon I feel my lover’s hands
trail up my legs from atop my boots to around the back of my ass. He digs his
digits in and lifts me off the floor by my ass. I wrap my leg around him and
tighten his torso very hard, my wet pussy more than ready for his actions.
He ravages my mouth with his, poking
my lips feverishly with that perfect long tongue of his.
“The blindfold…” I whisper, in
heat.
“It stays on until I say so!”
He sets me down again, the minute
of relief good on my dangling arms.
Next, I hear a thud, as I suspect
Taylor dropped to his knees.
“I want to taste EVERY
inch of you, Princess.”
I can tell, by his choice of
words, that My Master is losing some control. He is almost asking for me, slightly kinder than his short demands earlier on. But it soon makes no difference, as I feel his
strong arm take hold of my one leg and sling it gently over his shoulder.
His
tongue makes the most wonderful contact with my clit, just under my short
skirt. He decides to leave it on me, and it quickly adds to the feeling of
taboo…the thought of a man taking what he wants from under my clothes, and I
become further flushed with anticipation.
He
licks and traces my slit from end to end, repeatedly swirling my bud with his
masterful tongue. I want so desperately to release my hands and grip his head,
feeding it into me so I can cum from all the good feels…but I am prisoner to
only his touch.
But in
return for binding my arms, I send back a tease, and thrust myself into his
face, while curling my one leg tight around his head. The sensation is so good,
so empowering.
“Oh my
God…” I whimper. Taylor pulls away and stands near me, his voice dark and
unbridled.
“You
will not cum until I tell you to cum, Princess. Do you hear me?!”
“Yes,
Sir.” My body aches. My pulsing pussy aches. I want to orgasm so bad, but I
will not yet let go. Not until my lover tells me I can. It’s part of the
surrender. Part of the pleasure. Our pleasure.
Suddenly,
I feel the blindfold pulled off my head and I take a moment to adjust my eyes
to my surroundings. Luckily, the light is still dim, and I quickly find myself
still in the doorway, hands hooked onto that strange leather harness traversing
the doorframe.
What’s with the whole
doorframe thing? Does Taylor have a problem with beds?
I look
to my side and find our wall mirror repositioned not far away from where I’m
standing, in the hallway. I get a clear view of Taylor standing behind me, his
eyes gazing at me through the mirror.
“I can
never tell you how completely beautiful you are to me.”
I tilt my head back and nuzzle into his neck, admiring how
much he loves each of my curves, even the one or two I hate.
“Tonight
I want you to see, feel, and hear how much I love you.”
Before I could look into his eyes to respond, my Master
turns my face by the chin, and points to the mirror. He makes me watch him
proceed to fuck me good and hard.
Every
moment continues to be surreal, as I see every second of our actions. He lets
his hands float from my shoulders down to my hips as he steps into me, nudging
my legs apart, and he enters me.
I let out a long moan as he inches into my wet slit. I watch
contently as he intensifies his grip around my waist and pulls me onto him,
each thrust of his shaft edging deeper in my welcoming walls.
His
body is beautiful and strong. It matches me perfectly as he holds me together
with him as we are one in the candlelight. He reaches up and undoes the main
latch, allowing my arms to lower and I take hold of the door frame in front of
me. We are standing squarely under the doorline and I get the feeling I know
why he likes this location.
He can push. He can pull. He can have me dangle. I’m
starting to like his creativity. And speaking of pulling, my once neat hair bun
is beginning to unravel from the constant rocking motion. Taylor reaches up and
slips out the pin holding it all together and it falls to my sides in a long
beautiful mess, just the way he likes it.
I flick my head and turn to see his eyes on me. I stare back
with an angry fire burning in my belly, wanting to be extinguished. His perfect
gift is becoming very unravelled and needs to be consumed immediately.
“Oh
fuck,” I whimper, as his hard length paddles my g-spot over and over. I arch my
back tightly and lift my head back. That’s when he grabs a fist full of my hair
and pulls me just slightly farther so I can look straight back, up at his
beautiful face, now the façade of a feral dragon, ready to consume my flesh.
Several
wicked thrusts later, I see the look in my Master’s eyes. He is going to
explode. He lets go of my hair and sets both hands firmly on my waist.
“Now,
you may cum, Princess!”
So
close to the edge am I, that I swivel my head, my mess of hair tossed over my
one shoulder, and I stare at him with an evil smile. I’m possessed by his every
command this evening and decide to return his command. As I near my peak, I
squat down another inch and press hard on the doorframe with my hands. I extend
my arms fully and press myself onto his cock, pinning his body against the other
side of the doorframe. His body jolts in surprise as he feels my ass firm on
his body, and I then tremble instantly, cuming all over his spewing member. My
Master dons the most complete grin as he watches me stumble forward, trying to
collect myself as I gush from the after shocks.
At a
loss for words, I am beyond pleased. On my knees, I see Taylor undo the rope
from my wrists and he lifts me to the standing position. He massages my arms with
his smooth hands, relieving the slight numbness in my wrists. He then picks me
up in his arms and carries me onto the bed where he removes my skirt and lifts
each leg onto his shoulder one at a time, and removes my boots and stockings.
The
last thing he removes is my collar, and in its place, he nuzzles his nose and
dots my nape with the soft kisses he commenced with. We say nothing as we lay
in bed together. Not a need in the world for phrases. Just the sweet notion of
love and commitment surrounds us.
And I fall asleep on the chest of
my lover.
The next day at work would be
difficult. Often it would be hard to concentrate as my mind drew constant
playbacks of our actions together. A simple Fantasy Letter…a scribed request
for the extraordinary, was all it took to steer our love and affection back on
track, and fuel it for years to come.
I get a
text from Taylor while I’m having lunch with my lady friends.
Happy
Birthday sweetheart. Oh, and check the side of your purse.
What? What is Taylor
up to? He always says man should never reach into a woman’s purse.
With a
curious grin, I unzip the smaller pocket on the outside of my purse and pull
out a small gift box.
“What’s
that, Lola? A birthday gift from your husband? What a sweet man. Go ahead. Open
it. We all want to see.”
“Right.
Ok.” Nervously, I open the box, and I melt…
Inside I pull out a beautiful 24k gold necklace. To my
surprise, at its center, hangs the heart locket that was on the collar I wore
last night. I held the necklace tight, the warmest of smiles on my face.
It was from that day
on, that I wore my Master’s commitment around my neck.
And knowing that love
would find its way to those who sought it,
I would forever keep
his love close to my heart.
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