Naughty Love Letters

Written by: Lara Sabian

In the time it took the short red head behind the counter to draw a smiley on the froth of my caramel macchiato I reconciled the fact that the possibility of getting the tall dark and handsome cashier’s number was long gone. Some people spend their whole lives trying to reconcile even the smallest of inevitable probabilities; I reconciled mine in the time it takes to draw a smiley: somehow, I still didn’t feel lucky. But, as it were (as it is for all of us really), one never knows how lucky they are until that lucky moment is replaced by a more unlucky moment that is irredeemable in every way. As I took my caramel macchiato I caught a glimpse of that very sexy cashier writing his number down for a very tall and blonde (and very chic looking) gentlemen; the cashier subtly caressed the other gentleman’s hand ever so slightly as he handed over the small piece of paper…I was luckier when the petite red head was making that smiley face…I just couldn’t have known it until I looked left when I should have been looking right.

Having looked left I walked back to my table with very little regard for what was right. Often we all get lost in our tunnel vision when we are determined to be let down by events that are otherwise inconsequential. Perhaps, if we relied more on the peripheral we’d get a better idea of what that good old “everything happens for a reason” really means. So I sat with a heavy heart. Not because two of the best looking guys in the room were gay men, but rather, because for a moment I wished I was one of them-even if only secretly.

Quickly I digressed back into the studious girl who was 4 months over due for a trim at the salon and way too comfortable in her joggers and now caramel stained gray t-shirt. To be completely honest the t-shirt was actually a very old and thinly worn long john shirt I often slept in…sleeping in it made getting dressed for studying a lot more convenient especially when studying on Sunday mornings was the furthest thing from that. In a matter of moments I was swept back into the dull essence of myself. The lingering yearning for something exciting was laid to rest as is often done by people like myself. I sipped on my caramel macchiato and let the moments of my youth be consumed by the relics of academia. Of course, that was until Santo sat down next to me. Well, not exactly next to me but in the seat closest to me. Most people when inviting themselves to your table will sit directly across from you: Santo wasn’t like most people or most men for that matter.

“I was waiting for you to look up so we could make eye contact before I introduced myself, but, that was taking too long.” He said with a very strange and confident air as he sat down placing his hand on my knee. The Italian accent was not like the one you see on television or in the movies; it was much more like what you fantasize about late at night alone in the confines of a dorm room.

Santo was very charming to say the least. Charming yet vulgar, attractive while repulsive, vulnerable and strong, all these things at the exact same time made for a remarkable hyperbole that both enticed and frightened me. He was clean looking despite his very well thought out piercings and scruffy beard. I guessed it was only a couple of days since he last shaved. He had the most open eyes I’d ever seen, almond shaped, very dark brown and deep. They hypnotized me as I watched him looking at me smiling with his hand still on my knee. In any other situation I’d have said something but that coy smile some how stopped me. I must confess that his hand felt warm. Even through my joggers I could feel his warmth; it was like he was on fire despite his collected demeanor. I was so curious about him. I couldn’t speak and the few seconds seemed to last forever. Please God make him speak or I will die.

“You never properly thanked me you know?” He said softly as he sipped his coffee.

“Excuse me?” I answered trying not to blush.

“For the smile that came with your coffee.” He said softly, almost embarrassed.

“I didn’t realize, I thought it was supposed to come that way.” I realized I was staring near the end of my sentence; his lips were slightly wet from the coffee he’d sipped. He had a silver labret piercing just below his bottom lip-I could feel myself get wet as he squeezed my knee while getting up to take off his jacket and scarf.

“So now that you know different how are you going to make it up to me?” His jacket now off revealed quite broad shoulders for his stature. An inkling of a tattoo was revealed as he took off his scarf…I began to wonder what it was. I began to fear my nipples would erect and my thinly worn gray t-shirt would betray me. Before this could ever come to fruition he would sit down (lucky for me) and hypnotize me once more with his eyes as he waited patiently for me to answer.

“Uhm, I’m not quite sure what to say. I mean I’ve never had anyone request a smiley on my coffee before.” He just sat there and looked over the notes I had on the table. It seemed he wasn’t listening to a word I said, but I was wrong about that too. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“I’m already drinking coffee.” He looked over to me intensely. “I’m Santo by the way…” He put out his hand and waited impatiently for me to offer mine “And you are???”

“Lara, I’m Lara.” I extended my hand to meet with his. His hands were far warmer than I could feel through my joggers. Warm, strong, yet gentle. They were just the right size for a man. He held on to my hand and quickly put his other hand on top of it. My hands were always cold.

“Lara, you are so cold.” Santo said while warming up my hand with his. He touched me as though he’d known me all my life. I’m sure anyone watching would have thought the exact same thing. Why was I letting this complete stranger man handle me? He wasn’t exactly man handling me, but he was handling me rather easily.

“I’m always cold.” My lack of something more articulate to say was far quicker than my better judgment. He smiled and looked up at me and blew warm air on my hand as he rubbed it between his palms. In that moment he could have crushed my bones if he so chose-my hands being half the size of his and all. I imagined them using the same friction and pressure in and around my warm pussy. I felt the need to cross my legs as though to make sure I wasn’t exposing my desires.

“Is that better?” He asked with an air of sincerity.

“Yes, thank you”. I answered and blushed just a little all the while. It was when I could feel my cheeks turn red that I pulled my hand away and looked down. He just kept staring at me intensely as though I was supposed to say something, so finally I did. “Santo…is that Spanish?” I knew it wasn’t but I had to make conversation somehow and get my mind of his hands and how I’d have like them somewhere between my legs-I was so wet now I could feel it on my panties. What was the matter with me I thought? Ten minutes I was contemplating the gay cashier and now I’m fantasizing about this guy?

“No, well yes, perhaps. I’m not Spanish though. I’m from Sicily-do you know it?”

“Island in the Mediterranean near Italy and Greece?” I said swiftly.

“You are making fun of me?” He said taken aback and amused.

“No, why would I make fun of you?” I said almost forgetting how stunning he was. I didn’t like my words misconstrued, it was perhaps the only time I was ever truly assertive in my life up to that point.

“Well you said near Italy. It’s a joke, not so nice sometimes, that Sicilians aren’t really Italian. I thought you were making fun of me”. His accent was much thicker when he spoke for longer periods of time. His voice almost changed as he spoke, struggling for fragments of a second to put the right words together in English. I could feel my thinly worn t-shirt betraying me that very second.

“I wasn’t making fun of you-I was just clarifying the location is all.” I took a sip of my coffee quickly so as to get my mind off his voice.

He stared at me curiously for a moment taken aback by my snappy response. It was as though I’d surprised him in some way. Perhaps, even annoyed him just a little bit. Either way he was very intrigued by it. A woman who brushes them off intrigues some men, it’s a cat and mouse game to them and they must win at all costs. I was playing even if I didn’t know it at the time. He pulled his chair very close to mine suddenly and took my coffee out of my hand and put it on the table. This random act startled me and I began to squirm in my seat. He noticed and smiled in a reassuring manner. He then took my notebook and found a fresh page and took one of my pens that lay lifeless on the table and began to draw.

“Try and sit still for a few minutes if you can.” He began to sketch as he looked up and down from the page.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I knew he was drawing me it was obvious what he was doing. But, why I wondered. It was working out to be one of the strangest Sunday mornings of my life I thought to myself. I didn’t know the half of what it was to be for me that morning.

“I want to keep you.” He said very passively, his mind was busy on capturing the object of his interest-me. Why on earth he wanted to sketch me I didn’t know. How in hell I let him do it is beyond any form of reason or logic-I looked terrible that morning, every Sunday morning for that matter.

“Why?” I murmured under my breath almost.

I never liked the image of myself. I avoided pictures at all costs. I overtly criticized myself. I didn’t like my breasts, my hips, or my thighs. I didn’t particularly fancy my eyes, nose, or hair. The only think I could honestly say I liked were my lips. I loved them; they were full and supple but not too big. Other than that I’d have started the rest of me from scratch if I could. I sat there with the anxiety of what he would come up with. How I hated seeing the end result. How I dreaded he might show this sketch to someone and try to explain to him or her how he met me…how they might laugh or sigh at what a silly choice he’d made one Sunday morning in a coffee shop. I always came up with the most worst-case scenarios imaginable. I felt anxious and uneasy. I wanted to just pack up all my stuff and go home. I wanted another coffee. I needed to scream. I was caught between excited and horrified. This stranger was making me feel the worst and best emotions simultaneously.

Santo’s hand moved decisively. He never even flinched once while sketching. He was concentrated, determined, almost enveloped in his work. You’d have thought he was sketching the most beautiful woman in the world by looking at the intensity in his eyes. He bit his lip ever so slightly for just one moment when looking up at me as he drew. He stayed that way till he was finished. His poor lip suffered while his hand was busy at work. It was my notebook, my pen, but all his soul went into it you could tell just by observing how his eyes fluttered across the page. I felt flush watching the muscles in his arm and forearm flex as he drew. I was watching him as he watched me. I resisted far too long up to that point. I had to look down at his package. He was, from what I could see at the time, nicely sized. His jeans weren’t tight but when he sat they were snug enough to get a good idea of what they concealed. Even though his head was shaved you could tell he had very thick hair. I imagined he looked like a real man under all those cloths. Not like these manicured boys today. These metrosexuals with their fully waxed torsos and perfectly trimmed pubic hair. Not Santo. Santo was the kind of man who Mother Nature groomed perfectly. He was the kind of man whose chest hair a woman wants to feel on her breasts while his cock collides with all his manly girth and garden on her soft and bare puss. I noticed him smiling at me when I looked up. He was finished and perhaps had been finished sketching for quite some time. He was watching me with my eyes locked on his cock. I immediately turned red and went for my coffee. It was all finished. I didn’t know where else to look.

“Don’t you want to see?” He asked. I thought to myself I want to touch and fell and suck and fuck let alone see. He was talking about the sketch; I had something else in mind.

“Of course.” I lied, I didn’t want to see it at all, and I hated the idea of it. Then he turned it around. There I was sketched out in front of me. My lips were perfect. I looked like myself, but, some how different. It was like looking at a better version of myself. I looked beautiful-that would be the way to describe it. “It’s beautiful”.

“You are a beautiful woman.” He said while tearing out the sheet of paper. He folded it up and put it in his pocket. “And now I will have you forever.”

I suddenly laughed out loud. I couldn’t help myself. Something in his voice, maybe it was the accent, but something really triggered the little girl in me. I couldn’t stop laughing I don’t know why.

“You are laughing at me?” He asked once again only this time he was really smiling and almost started laughing as well, as though it was contagious. And I couldn’t stop laughing so he started to laugh as well. We sat there the next few moments laughing quite hard and long. I laughed so hard I had to uncross my legs and hold on to my stomach I was in so much pain. Suddenly, his face went quite serious.

“I think all that is left is for us to make love.” Said Santo with a vulpine demeanor almost salivating at the mouth.

He stood up with out missing a beat and put on his scarf and jacket. I felt my heart beating. He was serious. He handed me my notebook and waited for me to get up. I hadn’t noticed but I’d stopped laughing as well. I hadn’t noticed but I took the book and got up. I was quickly putting my things away in my bag as he waited. I thought to myself I must have been losing my mind. I have to be crazy. My heart was racing and I could feel my sweet sticky essence on my clitoris with ever move I made. I was really going to do this. I was really going to have sex with a stranger.

“I live just upstairs.” He said as I put on my coat. Anxious for me to follow him he took my bag.

I followed him out of the coffee shop to an entrance way just a few meters from it. The condominium above the coffee shop had never interested me before. I must say I paid very little attention to it now even as I walked through the foyer. I kept my head down as he took my hand in his almost dragging me to the elevator he walked so fast. We stood side by side waiting for the elevator doors to open. I could feel him looking at me. I refused to meet his gaze, I knew if I looked I’d just run out of there and not follow through with this glorious moment. My thinly worn t-shirt betrayed me yet again but it didn’t matter now, my coat was covering it up, my thirst and desire for him were well concealed. Ding, the doors opened. An old lady came out with her little dog; typical and cliché, but life can be very cliché, and some of it’s best moments are quite cliché. We walked in to the elevator soon after she walked out. I stood in the corner as he hit number nineteen. Just eighteen floors between ecstasy and me I thought. The elevator doors closed and I realized how wrong I was. He dropped my bag on the floor and swooped over like a hawk and kissed me. I kissed Santo back. His lips were warm and fit mine perfectly. He bit a little bit at the end of his kiss. His tongue filled my mouth and fiercely entangled itself with mine. He put his hand on my breast clawing at the coat; despite the layers I could feel it so perfectly. I opened my eyes and saw sixteen, seventeen; at that moment I could feel him unbuttoning the front of my coat quickly; eighteen. I quickly pushed him away in time for nineteen. Ding, the door opened. There was no one there. Santo quickly picked up my bag and took me by the hand. He guided me down the hall. The hallway seemed to last forever. Finally we ended up at his front door.

Santo stood there a moment trying to find his key in his pockets. I don’t know what came over me but I suddenly found myself in front of him leaning with my back on his door. I was about 6 inches shorter than him. I pulled him close and put my hand in the back pockets of his jeans. I must have pulled hard because he jerked forward and put his hand on the door for support. Then I moved my right hand to the front and felt up his pocket then I felt up the other pocket and found something. I put my hand inside and pulled out the key. I dangled it in front of him like meat to a hungry dog and much like a hungry dog he went for it. He picked me up with just one arm; with the other hand he unlocked and opened the door as he kicked the door behind him shut. Santo didn’t turn on a light or anything. He put me down and ripped off my coat while kissing me. He then took off his and pulled me towards him. I could feel his hands on my breast as though he’d rip them off if he could. I must have sighed too loudly because he quickly remedied the problem. He kissed me and walked me over to the couched as he moved his hand from my breast to the front of my pants. I could feel his hand rubbing between my legs. I surrendered completely. I lay down and he lay on top of me. His hand still between my thighs petting and applying pressure as he kissed my neck. I let out a begging sigh and moan as I reached for the back of his sweater. He understood immediately and took it off himself.

The blinds were all closed but there was a bit of sunlight coming through them-it was the perfect lighting: not in complete darkness yet not exposed in daylight. His body was just as I imagined. He stood over me like an ancient warrior come to claim his prize. His masculine torso covered with hair on the pectorals and then that perfect little trail along the way to the belly button. I put my hands on him and ran my fingers down to his fly. I undid the first button as he put his hands on either side of me and kissed me passionately. I undid the fly and could feel his engorged cock from the outside of his boxer briefs. He couldn’t resist any longer and put his hand down my track pants. Santo slipped my moist panties to the side and smiled as he kissed me.

“Do you have any idea how wet you are right now” He touched all around the outside lips and slowly made his way to the inside ones. I let go of his package and opened my legs up more as he slipped his fingers around my clitoris. He sunk two fingers inside me and quickly took them out. He pulled those fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean. “You’re not cold at all Lara…you’re very warm, just as I like it.”

Santo took my pants off and threw them on the floor. He stood up and took his off as well. He touched his hard cock a moment while looking down at me. It almost came right out of his black boxer briefs for how hard he was. He came back to the couch and took of my panties and dropped them to the floor. He looked down at my warm wet puss. Naked and small. It looked perhaps too small for his member to fit in. He lied down and with one finger he penetrated me and with his tongue he pleasured me two fold. I thrust up with pleasure and he removed his finger. He put his entire tongue inside me thrusting it as deep and hard as he could. I was breathing heavily and covering my face with one hand and biting on my other hand as I tried not to come so quickly. He knew I was almost there. My essence was spilling all over his chin and into his mouth. Santo pulled back and watched me twitch a little as he teasingly massaged my clitoris. He smiled down proud of the work he’d down. I regained a hold of myself and opened my eyes.

There he knelt with his cock in his hand. It was beautiful. Just perfect. The perfect texture, color, and size. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. Santo on his knees leaned forward and massaged my clitoris and inner lips with the head of his warm member. I moved my hips and pelvis trying to coincide with his rhythm. He was making me suffer for it. I needed to be filled and he knew it. He leaned over me watching my agony. Finally I placed my hands on his chest and slid them to his lower back and tried to pull him down and in to me, but he was too strong.

“You want me to fuck you?” He whispered.

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t even think. I could feel my insides clenching but there was nothing to clench. He slipped the head in just a little bit and pulled it back out.

“Say you want me to fuck you.” He whispered as he bit my neck near my ear.

I tried once more to pull him down and into me but it was no use. Santo was too strong for me. He licked my neck and nibbled on it some more as he slowly ground his hard cock over and around my warm and wet puss.

“Say it. Say you want my hard cock. I know you want it you sneaky bitch.”

Suddenly my eyes opened wide. No one had ever called me a bitch during sex before. It was so degrading, but I liked it. He knew that I liked it because I tried pulling him down again only this time with more force.

“Feisty little whore aren’t you. Tell me you want it deep inside you.” He buried the head a little deeper this time and moved it in and out. I thrust up a little and gained an inch inside me. But he held me down. He slid just one inch of that gorgeous cock in and out of me. He knew I’d cave sooner or later.

“Fuck me” I said softly, it was almost inaudible.

“I can’t hear you.” He said as he pulled the cock out and rubbed my clitoris with it.”

“Fuck me now!” I said gripping on to Santos back.

He thrust into me fiercely; it almost knocked the wind right out of me. I could feel his hair pounding on my wet pussy. My slippery essence wetting him more and more with the colliding of our flesh. I could feel his hand behind my neck when suddenly he grabbed onto my hair and pulled it ever so gently as he bit into my lip as he kissed and fucked me. In and out he pounded relentlessly.

“You like that? You like how I fuck you?” He said as he pulled on my hair. I didn’t answer. He quickly leaned upward and looked down on me as he held himself up with one hand and put the other on my clitoris. He suddenly stopped moving and left the entirety of his hard cock deep inside me. I could feel his sack on my flesh. I thrust up and he moved his hand on to my stomach holding me down. He pushed his cock in harder and deeper now. With his thumb he rubbed my clitoris slowly. It felt so good but it wasn’t what I wanted. I was in agony and ecstasy all at the same time. I was being pleasure but all I wanted was to be fucked. I couldn’t take it any longer I surrendered completely to his requests and orders.

“I like it when you fuck me.” I said exasperated.

Santo got on his knees and pulled out of me. He turned me around and lifted my body. The sweat through my t-shirt was showing he put his hands up under it and clenched my breasts as he slowly slipped his already wet cock into me. He leaned me forward and put one hand on my shoulder as he tempestuously pushed all of his manhood in and out of me with lust and passion. I began to loose all equilibrium. My heart was beating so fast. Every few thrusts he would growl like a wild animal. I wanted to push back onto him but when I did he thrust down on me like the alpha wolf does to a reluctant bitch in mating. Santos pushed my back down so that the side of my face was on the couch. He then proceeded to bite down on my shoulder with his torso along my back. I could feel his pace quicken and grow fiercer with each passing moment. I was completely helpless as I clenched at him from with in. Hugging his manhood. He enjoyed this and did not fight it. He slowed down a moment to enjoy it but quickly returned to his original pace. He sped up his rhythm incredibly and slipped his hand onto my clitoris and played with it until I too moved as he did. We were both there. He kissed and licked my neck between bites of passion. I was climaxing I could feel myself twitching as my knees grew weaker. Santo thrust his final thrust into me with love. Not passion, not sex, but love. His limp cock still inside me-what I would have give for just a few more moments. He continued to rub my clitoris with his soft cock inside me. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t pulled out.

“I want to hear you scream you little bitch” He moved ever so slightly. I was so turned on and sensitive a minute is all it took of calculated movement and constant friction. I gasped and moaned like bitch in heat as I collapsed with his soft cock inside me. He lay on my back. Both of us drained and drenched from love’s work. Our gasps for air were in symbiosis as though the experience had somehow bound us physically even if for just a short while.

Santo finally regained his breath and pulled his soft cock out of me. Seeing as I was unable to move and still twitching while catching my breath he pulled me up. I was helpless in his arms. He lay on his back pulling me on to his chest. I lay there with my head rested near his heart. I was satisfied. I was exhausted. I was complete. I lay there with nothing between he and I but a sweaty t-shirt. I could smell my insides on him. I could smell it on his breath as he kissed my forehead. It made me smile.

“Bella sei.” Santos whispered.

I fell asleep in his arms and he with me in them. We slept for what seemed an eternity. The kind of sleep that is so good you don’t even dream. To be honest I never wanted to wake up from that. I must say that to this day I have never had a Sunday that could hold a candle to that particular day. Deep down I hope I never do.

The end

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