Page 4 of By the Letter

My attraction to Wim was shockingly visceral. My hands moved on their own, following the trail of hair starting at his chest and going all the way down his slightly soft abdomen until it disappeared beneath his tented pants.

“Touch me,” he urged. “Hands on me, Goldie.”

This was new. I didn’t know if what I was doing was right, but I palmed his length through his pants while scratching along his sides and back with my other hand, letting my instinct guide me.

His deep groan and thrust of his hips told me I couldn’t have been entirely wrong, so I continued my exploration while he did the same.

We didn’t speak, and that was perfect. I got to play with this stranger’s body while he toyed with mine, and, god, I had never been so turned on in my life. Since I’d divorced myself from these feelings until very recently, that wasn’t saying much, butnow I was connected to my inner well of desire, feeding it with every stroke of Wim’s skin and each groan I pulled from him.

He cupped between my legs again, his long middle finger pressing firmly on my sensitive flesh, and I froze, my mouth falling open behind my mask as he connected with my clit, tapping and rolling it in no discernible pattern.

And I forgot who I was, all my baggage set to the side. No longer was I a lonely, twenty-nine-year-old widow or the CEO of a failing company. With Wim, I became a wanton ball of lust and urgency. Scrambling with the button on his pants, I managed to pop it open in spite of his very distracting fingers sliding through my folds. When he plunged one inside me, I lost track of my hands, my balance—everything but the inches he was now claiming.

“Wet, Goldie. So, so wet.”

Gripping my waist, he flipped me around and pressed me face down on the table. My breath was lost then found moments later when his hands spread my cheeks and his wet tongue made contact with my soaked flesh. He must have lifted his mask. The possibility of turning around to see what he looked like flitted through the back of my mind, but it didn’t matter. Inside this room, what he did to me and how he made me feel were all I cared about.

I gasped, arched, cried, clawed at the table. Wim lapped at me from behind, taking something that had never been given. He knew it was his. All of me was. It was why we were here, in room ten. For tonight, he could take me, use me, have me any way he wanted, and I would love it.

Holding on to the edges of the table, I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling like I was outside my body yet more connected than ever before. Wim relentlessly licked and sucked long-neglected parts, awakening nerve endings that had atrophied. He did it with ease, tirelessly going at me.

And humming. I’d learned Wim hummed when he was pleased. Since he’d put his mouth on me, he hadn’t stopped. The vibrations were…oh god, they were going to make me come. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since he’d started, but I was barreling toward the edge. Pressure ballooned within me until my skin was too tight and my voice clawed at my throat with the need to scream.

I hadneverscreamed. Not even once. But I didn’t think I’d be able to stop myself.

“Wim,” I cried. “Wim, please…”

His lips latched onto my ache and pulled it from me. My head flew back, and my mouth opened wide, ragged sounds breaking loose from somewhere foreign inside me.

It was…exquisite. Painfully beautiful. I crumbled, fell apart beneath his ministrations. Not just the orgasm but his hands on me. They’d never left, and they were purposeful. Stroking and caressing. Spreading and kneading. I’d been touched more by this stranger in the last ten minutes than I had in…I didn’t want to think how long.

Tears welled in my eyes and spilled over, making me grateful for my mask. He didn’t need to deal with the intensity of my emotions. They weren’t sexy, and that was all I wanted to be for him.

“Christ, Goldie.” He kissed the back of one thigh then the other. “In different circumstances, I’d have you sitting on my face for the rest of the night.”

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to live in the alternate universe where that was happening…

I felt him move only a beat or two before he grabbed me again and carried my boneless body to the couch. He placed me on my knees, my chest against the back cushion, and arranged me just so. Then he was there, curving around me, enveloping me in hisarms. He put his face next to mine, and I didn’t have to see to know he’d replaced his mask.

“Goldie, Goldie, Goldie,” he murmured. “You didn’t warn me about that sweet pussy.”

He rocked his hips into me, the ridge of his erection prodding my lower back. With our height difference, he wasn’t hitting where he needed to be—where I wanted him—but I liked feeling how hard he was and knowing it was all for me.

Rustling fabric and the sound of a zipper grabbed my attention. I turned my head to see him taking his pants off, wishing the eyeholes of my mask were a little bigger and the lights in the room brighter so I could see this man in fine detail. As it was, my memories of tonight would be candlelit and hazy, which I already regretted. I couldn’t fathom I’d gather the courage to do this again with someone else. Wim was my one and only.

He was a beautiful one and only too. His cock stood out from his hips, long and proud, as he rolled a condom over it. I wished he’d flip me around and feed it into my mouth, but he had other ideas—ideas I was equally supportive of.

His hands were on me again, raising my hips higher until my back was dramatically arched and my knees were barely on the cushions.

The blunt head of his cock brushed my opening, and I clenched, suddenly frightened I wouldn’t be able to take all of him.

“Shhh, Goldie,” he soothed, stroking his cock against my clit. “Relax and let me in. It’s gonna be a tight fit, but you can take it. All you have to do is let it happen.”

“Okay,” I whispered, willing my muscles to loosen.

To my surprise, he didn’t plunge inside me. Wim eased in, coaxing me open for his intrusion. My body stretched to accommodate him, little by little. Every inch I took, I grewmore slick. I was trusting my safety to a stranger who could do anything to me he chose. The edge of danger set me alight. As a woman who never took chances, this entire experience was one big head trip.

After forever, Wim sank into me completely, his pelvis flush with my backside, fingers anchored around my hip bones. He stayed there, still as night, the puff of his breath through his mask the only sound for a solid minute or two.

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