Archive-name: Dreams/carla.txt Archive-author: Archive-title: Carla's Letter Dear Lori, Well, babe, you said to write back quickly, so here it is. Wow, you don't mess around, do you? 16 pictures! (Actually, I hope you DO mess around. And I want to do it with you!) We could argue over who has the better body, but why waste the time? Lori, I'm going crazy over yours. Your tits are just the right size for me, and your nipples look delicious. Now I'm looking at your ass and wishing my lips were planting soft kisses all over your cheeks. Do you like to have your ass kissed? Your first photo hinted at the cuteness of your face, but it certainly didn't do you any justice. And I REALLY like the photos of you oiled up, too. You look so sexy that way. Wouldn't it be fun to get oiled up together and make beautiful love? Oh what I'd give to rub my body against yours! I know what you mean about typing with one finger. That's how I typed the first letter I sent you. I think I write sexier that way. Luckily, I have a computer, so I can go back and correct the mistakes. But don't worry about yours. The mistakes show me how excited you are. And I want you to be excited. Today I'm wearing my Joni's Butterfly, so I can use both hands. But I can tell already that I won't be able to make it through all of this without an orgasm break. Yesterday was such a bummer for me. I found your anxiously- awaited letter in my mailbox, but my husband and kids were around all day. I wanted so much to spend time poring over your letters and photos. And I had such a need to write to you. I was constantly aware of the wetness between my legs. Finally, when the kids were down for their nap, I told my husband I was going to take one, too. He winked and offered to help, but I begged off with fatigue. Then I locked myself in the bedroom and spent an hour and a half masturbating over you. Lori, you've really excited me! And don't worry about my husband. You primed me pretty well for some rousing fun with him last night. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall to watch you bring yourself to orgasm. It's nice to know someone else who admits she appreciates masturbation as much as I do. You know how secretive girls are about that. Even some of the bi girls I've known wouldn't admit they masturbated. I'll never figure that one out. You'd think that would be an easier taboo to overcome than bisexuality. My college roommate and I use to sit in chairs facing each other while we masturbated and talked dirty to each other. That was always exciting to me. I like to watch my lovers masturbate, and I was even fortunate enough to see a couple of girls do it when they didn't know I was watching. Anyway, we'll have to compare notes. I loved the story about you and Karen. It's fun to imagine it happening. And it's fun to picture what you must have looked like at 15. Probably because of my background, teenaged girls will always turn me on. But enough of that. You were curious about my first time. My first experience with sex of ANY kind was at fourteen. My sister was sixteen, and she'd just returned from her first date. (I think we started dating a lot later than you, Lori.) I'd been curious about cocks for a couple of years, and I'd certainly felt the empty, tingling feeling between my legs. But other than squeezing my thighs together, I did nothing and knew nothing. And I'd been envious of Kathy's big breasts for quite awhile, too. (Mine were just little buds.) But I can't say I had any sexual feelings for her or her breasts. At any rate, I'd lain awake waiting for her return because her first date was exciting for both of us. Under the covers and in the dark, she whispered all the little details. Unbeknownst to me, however, she was playing with her pussy while telling me her exciting story. All of a sudden, in the midst of the petting "struggle" at the park, she stopped and was lost in her first orgasm. I had no idea what was going on and was afraid that something terrible was happening to her. She kept me from getting Mom for help (Wouldn't that have been something!?), then told me all about what had happened, how good it felt and what caused it. I tried. It felt nice enough, but it certainly wasn't a big thing for me. Kathy came over to my bed to show me how. I still remember every single second of that night, Lori, and the emotions each one carried. The first touch of her fingers on my pussy was the most glorious moment of my life. I soared. I loved it. And I can feel those same feelings today as though it just happened. (I've since learned that a man's touch is very different from a woman's. I like the firm, strong touch of a man, but the soft, sensual touch of a woman is special.) She told me how exciting it was to have a boy squeeze your breasts (outside your clothes, of course!). As I became more and more excited, I fondled the spongy orbs I'd envied for so long. What a thrill: the softness, the fullness and the obvious pleasure it gave her. It seemed natural to kiss and suck them, and I did both while I humped against her hand. Her big, hard nipple was in my mouth when I moaned through my first orgasm. That was the beginning, and I could write two pages on the beautiful feelings of that first time. I really feel fortunate about all of this. Most of my friends took years to learn how to orgasm. But with Kathy's hand and words of encouragement and reassurance (I got scared when I started to lose control) I was able to learn right away. Today I orgasm easily and often. In college I became multi-orgasmic. We were two very horny young ladies, thrilled with discovery and the wonderful, delicious feelings of being naughty. Over the next few weeks we progressed to breast play, mutual masturbation and finally pussy licking. I flipped out over having my pussy licked. Kathy did it to me first, and I went through the ceiling. I could hardly wait to return the favor. What a wonderfully sensual feeling! Today I simply love to lie between a woman's thighs with the smooth wetness of her cunt around my tongue and lips as I gaze up between her breasts to watch her passion. At any rate, it was a heady time. We were at each other every chance we could safely do so. We thought up all kinds of games to play, and even experimented with fruits and veggies. (I knew I was going to get in trouble, Lori. My pussy is practically dripping with excitement. I've taken my shirt off to sit on so I don't stain the chair. The vibrations are up on my Butterfly, and I'm back to typing one-handed. My breasts and nipples wanted too much attention. I'm afraid I may have to take that orgasm break before long. This letter might take forever!) Our little brother was two years younger than I. (I guess he still is, isn't he?) His cock had been a fixation for me ever since I was twelve. I didn't know why. I just knew I was constantly curious about it. When we were wrestling, I could sometimes feel it--and sometimes feel it hard. I was forever trying to catch him in the act of dressing or undressing so I could see it. And I was always trying to spy on him when he was in the bathroom. But he was always so private that I couldn't see it--which, of course, made me want to see it all the more! As I began to develop, I began teasing him to see if I could make it hard. I'd sit so he could see my panties or stand in front of the light so he could almost see through my nightie. Sometimes I'd leave my door open when I changed clothes, then act surprised and mad when he saw me partially naked. Or I'd leave the bathroom door cracked when I took a shower in case he wanted to peek. It was exciting to watch his reactions. Part of the thrill was testing out my powers as a young woman. It seems he had a hard-on all the time, and I knew I frequently caused it. Sometimes I'd stand outside his bedroom door and listen to him jerk-off. Of course, I didn't know what he was doing, but it was something he wasn't suppose to do. And that made it more exciting. (That's it. I can't take this any longer. Time for a break!) (Well, it's another day. One orgasm wasn't enough yesterday. And after the second, I was too wiped out to continue. Today I thought I'd try one of my soft dildos while I type. There's no vibration, but I like the fullness. This is fun, getting naughty with you, Lori.) Well, back to the story. After about six months of playing around with each other, Kathy and I decided to get Scott. By then she'd touched her boyfriend's cock when they'd made out, and she'd told me all about it. I'd told her about Scott, too, so we'd both been teasing him. And she told me what he was doing in his room. One night Mom and Dad were gone, so we put our plan into action. We really teased him that night while we watched TV. We wrestled with him in our nighties so he could "accidentally" touch us, and we really sat "sloppily." Then, when he went to bed, we waited outside his door until we heard the bedsprings squeaking. At that, we rushed in and turned on the light. Sure enough, he was laying on his back, his hand wrapped around his little pecker. You should have seen his face, Lori! At first he was really mad at us, but Kathy got him calmed down and told him we'd take all our clothes off for him if he'd show us what he was doing. I was so hot from just seeing his cock that all I could do was stand there and shake. God, it was so exciting! After we watched him pump himself for awhile, Kathy said she'd let him touch her breasts if she could touch his prick. I could take that for only so long before I had to get into the act. Kathy showed me how to jerk him off, and I made him shoot all over the place. Now that I really loved! And at that age, of course, they never get soft, so we kept playing until we heard Mom and Dad drive in. As long as we lived at home, the three of us had each other for love, comfort and fun. Eventually we taught Scott how to play with us and eat us, and we learned to suck him off. That's where we drew the line, but we had hours and hours of loving fun. I like to think Kathy and I taught Scott how to be a superior lover, but I suppose I'll never know. Once each of us left home, the subject never came up again. The only feelings I've ever had about all of that are Good and Wonderful. I've read where incest is suppose to make people feel dirty and become anti-social. It's hard for me to relate to that because I did well in school, was popular and never felt dirty at all. No one will ever convince me that what we did was wrong-- it was too good to be bad. It brought us closer together, and there's always been lots of love. Although we agreed to stop at oral sex, I'll admit I wanted Scott in me very badly. I wanted him to take my virginity; I still think it would have been better and more loving if he had. But I'll admit I don't think about the social issues anymore. I've spent half my life worrying about my sexuality and the other half saying, "Who cares?" What I do in my bedroom is my business. I know I don't fit any of the "This Is A Woman" molds. By any standard I've ever seen, I'm definitely over-sexed. I have strong exhibitionist tendencies, which fits the mold. But I'm also very visually oriented, and have a strong voyeuristic streak, as well. That doesn't fit the mold. Sexual guilt is almost foreign to me, and I'm more drawn to adventure than security in sexual matters. So I don't know where I fit in, but I don't worry about it too much. I know that other than the emptiness and loneliness of life without a woman since I've been married, I've had a much richer, fuller and happier sex life than most women ever will. That first incident with Scott began my life-long obsession with cocks. I'm an inveterate crotch watcher, wondering what's behind the zipper, what it looks like, how it feels and things like that. Each size and shape has it's own special attraction, but I love them all. I love the way they look, the way they feel in me, on me and in my hand and mouth. I love their taste and their texture. And I love their warm cum in my mouth or on my face and breasts. One of my favorite fantasies is to be naked on my knees, surrounded by 5 or 6 naked sixteen or seventeen year- old boys. I could go around the circle, giving each a nice, long suck; then lie back and watch them jerk off until they splash hot cream all over my body. I know my chance of ever having that happen is gone, but oh, do I love the fantasy! As bitter as I sometimes get with my husband's closed- mindedness about bisexuality, I'm grateful for his understanding of my love of cocks. Every once in awhile he arranges a 3-some with another man. Have you ever done that, Lori? Those are such wonderful times for me. The "discovery" of a new cock. Two cocks to play with. And the devoted attentions of two men. I always feel so female and so special. And I love my husband all the more for it. Well, another book and still not enough questions asked of you. I can't believe how good it feels to be able to talk like this with someone. Maybe now that I've blurted all of this out we can move on to a better correspondence. Write soon, Lori. Horny for you, Carla --