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