Welcome Home

In celebration of your return I'd like to give you a gift.

When you say a particular word, I will get on my knees and suck your cock.

If we are not in a good place for this to happen I'll take your hand and we'll find one.

You can use your command word three times, over the course of one week, the timing of this week will start the first time you use your word.

The word is "Serendipity".

20 Love Letters - The Twentieth

I love you.

I miss you and I’m glad I wont have to for much longer.

I think what we have is worth keeping, worth working at, worth talking through. Worth taking care of.

Let’s keep it.

20 Love Letters - The Nineteenth

A little less than 36 hours and, all things running to plan, I should be seeing you again.

I can’t wait.

20 Love Letters - The Eighteenth

You love my arse. You’re always checking it out, groping it, sticking your hands down my pants even at fairly inopportune times.

You love fucking my arse. I imagine the sensation is pretty different to fucking my pussy. Tighter, a different angle, a different kind of tension.

I never thought it was something I’d get into, was always too afraid it would hurt too much. But you were so patient and we tried on different occasions with varying degrees of success until, yeah, somewhere along the way we figured it out. And it doesn’t hurt much or even at all anymore. And it’s so intense. So hot. So very fucking awesome.

We’ve played with toys, butt plugs, dildos and various combinations of the above along with your own cock and there’s nothing quite like being so full and having my body stuffed from two angles. And we’re talking about and planning when we can do it without the toys and it’ll be two cocks inside me at once and the thought just makes me burn.

And it’ll happen because you want it and I want it too and I know it’ll be another mind blowing experience.

It kind of makes me feel sad for people who don’t have cool, open minded, perverted boyfriends.

20 Love Letters - The Seventeenth

Sometimes I freak out about the way you drive. It’s not that you are a dangerous driver, I can be in the car with far more accident-prone drivers and feel fine, I’m not sure why I skitz out a bit when you drive sometimes. Actually, I think I do. I think it’s because when we first got together you were just getting your license, so you were still sort of learning. We’d go on long drives and I’d be the licensed driver in the car while you practised. So I got in the habit of overzealously checking the road when you were driving, keeping an eye out for hazards.

Now I can’t seem to switch it off. I know you’re gonna stop at the stop light, a little later than I would but you’ll do it. But sometimes I get a little panic and feel like if I don’t tell you it’s coming up that you wont know, like back when you were learning.

Anyway I just wanted to stay sorry about that, I really don’t think you’re a bad driver, it’s just a weird instinct and I’ll keep trying to curb it if you’ll be patient with me.

I still do prefer for you to drive, I’m a better passenger. And you’re better at knowing where you’re going anyway.

20 Love Letters - The Sixteenth

You’re a social creature and I’m sure I wouldn’t have anywhere near as much going on socially if we weren’t together. My life is richer for it. You tend to do most of the organising of social engagements, setting up dinners, outings, café and bar meetups with friends. When we’re out with friends you’re usually on fire, running off your mouth, flirting with our female friends, chatting about whatever.

You can be quiet too though. When you’re home you can fall into your work, or read, or piddle about on the computer for hours. Zone out in front of computer games or whatever. I think it’s a side of you not too many people see. See you when you’re not “on”. I’m glad I get to see both sides. Well really, I get to see all sides. And I like that.

20 Love Letters - The Fifteenth

You have so much trouble keeping your clothes on. You’re most comfortable naked, to the point where there is generally a trail of clothes leading across the floor whenever you get home and shed them. It’s usually only the terror of cold weather or the threat of guests that gets you into some kind of clothing when you’re at home. It’s both endearing and hilarious.

Sometimes I’ll find you in the spare room, sitting at the computer bareassed surfing the internet, not looking at porn or anything just emails or whatever. It’s no big thing. You’re just comfortable in your own skin, so why bother with clothes? I go naked a lot more around home also, it saves on washing.

You tend to do most of the washing anyway. Sorry about that.

20 Love Letters - The Fourteenth

It’s absurd but I could probably write a lot of paragraphs on how much I adore your cock. From the rough clutch of strawberry blonde curls that sits low on your belly, to the smooth curve of your shaft, to the soft skin of your balls.

I love to hold you in my hand when you’re hard and firm, the skin so soft in contrast to the tense core. If I’m doing something right I can feel the shift and throb as you grow harder in my fingers.

Sometimes you get yourself waxed, and I have the added bonus of all that perfectly smooth skin, and I get obsessed with the silkiness of your testes, so smooth and touchable.

You’re large enough to be satisfying without being frightening. When I go down on you I can fit almost fit you all the way in if I’m relaxed enough. I do enjoy giving you head, the way you shift, the noises you make, all that firm heat and skin in my mouth.

Yeah, I guess I really do love the cock.

20 Love Letters - The Thirteenth

I love it that you can cook. You are a much better chef than I will ever be and not only because you enjoy it, you also have a flair for it, plus all the background of growing up in a household that knows good food.

When you throw things together you don’t get tied to a recipe, you just feel it out, adding in what ingredients you think will work and you’re usually right. When things don’t come out the way you like, you get so miffed, like somehow you’ve failed even though the end result is always edible.

I’m not terribly confident in the kitchen. When I do cook I get really stuck on following the recipe and usually take forever to put something together. I’m better at desserts than meals, and you are better at meals than desserts so between us we pretty much have it covered.

I’m looking forward to being fed by you soon.

20 Love Letters - The Twelfth

I miss making out with you. We should put it at the very top of our to-do list when I get back home. Good old fashioned rolling around with our clothes still on lips-locking, tongue-tangling dry-humping high-school style necking. Yeah I could really go for that.

Do you remember our first sort-of “date”? When at the end we got a bit caught up by the car and wound up kissing and touching forever under the streetlights. Your hands were up under my skirt and we were getting very dirty. We must have been making a lot of noise because eventually a guy who lived in the house we were parked near came out on his balcony and just *glared* at us until we broke apart and left.

I can still remember the warm liquid feeling in my panties as we drove away. We got up to more mischief that night and it was all so fun and hot and new.

Of course you know me even better now. You’ve had plenty of time to learn my buttons and you know which ones to push. You’ve even found buttons I didn’t know I had and brought me some of the most intense sexual ecstasy. You really are a great lover.

So let’s make out, ok? When I get back. It’ll be fun.

20 Love Letters - The Eleventh

No time to be lyrical today, but I still have a few favourite things to mention.

* lazy afternoons watching movies in our underwear, curling into your side and leaning on you
* the way you put your hand on my leg, or around my shoulder when we go to the movies
* the way you smell when you're all fresh and ready to go out, a sort of heady mix of cologne and deoderant and your own warm smell underneath
* the devious look you get in your eye when you go down on me

Particularly the last one.