“Dear Anna,
Life on the open sea is everything I imagined it would be,”
Jim begins to write his letter to her.
“The stars at night only compete with the landing strip lights on the carrier. You’ve never seen such black skies. I look out to the water and dream of a day I can show you this world aboard a luxury cruise ship. I miss laying next to the pond with you on the blanket counting stars and making plans for our future. But when my tour is over, we can have all that and more. Thank you for being my girl. I’ll write soon.
Love,
Jim”
Sealing his letter and anxiously awaiting the mail to go out, Jim reports to the bridge for his daily duty. Dreaming of Anna’s sweet kisses and her soft silky hair, he remembers their last moments together before he left for sea. He and Anna were high school sweethearts and they explored each other’s bodies with delight and enthusiasm the summer following graduation. The sensation of her ripe flesh beneath him sustains him through many a quiet night in his bunk. Those still nights when the only sound is the restless rustle of sheets with the realization that everyone else is probably doing the same thing, dreaming of the girls back home.
Back home is just about everywhere for the crew. With 2000 sailors on the ship, the camaraderie revolves around talk of girls. There are dairymen from the farmland of Wisconsin boasting about the buxom farmer’s daughter they know. The city boys from Chicago swear their sophisticated career girls with short skirts and high heels are the way to go, while the beach bums from Florida lust for their bikini-clad tan bodied blondes. During downtime, the conversations always turn to females and how much they miss them. Jim is no different; his Anna with her auburn hair and creamy complexion could give any girl from anywhere a run for the money. He keeps her picture in his wallet, occasionally pulling it out when the bragging begins. He is so proud of her and wants the world to know what a beautiful girl has given him her heart and body.
Day turns to night and the fantasies begin again. Only in the solitude of the deep night can Jim truly recall his Anna’s kisses and lovemaking. So pure and sweet, it sustains him.
The following week, mail is delivered. Jim eagerly receives a letter with her feminine handwriting gracing the envelope. He cannot wait to be alone and rip it open to see what she has to say.
Later that afternoon, her perfume wafts back to him when he tears open her letter and it assails his nose. Jim’s mind wanders to the first time he explored Anna’s intimate area with his mouth. Her delicate perfume mingled with her musky female aroma sent shockwaves through his entire body. The scent of the letter brings a twinge of arousal dancing in his pants. Jim wants to feel himself buried between Anna’s legs again.
With this delicious image in his mind, Jim unfolds her letter.
“Dear Jim,
I hope this letter finds you enjoying your life aboard the ship. I think of you all the time and want to tell you how much I miss you and our intimate times. I hope you remember them with the same passion I do.
Oh does he! Jim thinks as a smile forms on his face.
I have thought of little else but your touch since you’ve been gone. Our lovemaking that last night is branded in my brain. I too remember how it felt when we laid on the blanket next to the pond and watched the sky. You slowly caressed my thighs and massaged my legs until I thought I would melt. I’ve never tried to write it down, but with you so far away, I want to relive it graphically with you so anytime you want to relive it, it’s as close as this piece of paper. I’m aching for you and if I cannot make love with you in person, I want to at least be able to make love alone with thoughts of each other.
Jim begins to tremble. Her letter is as if Anna knew what he did each night when the lights were out and he was alone with her mentally.
I never thought I would ache so much for physical touch, but I’ve found a solution I’d like to share with you. I’ve discovered the joy of touching myself. The other day, I took out your picture. Seeing your wavy black hair and smiling green eyes, I thought of the way your tongue felt licking me as I ran my fingers through your hair while you’d look up to me from time to time, catching my eyes with yours. When I thought about that, I started to rub myself mimicking the rhythm of your tongue. OH JIM, it felt so good. I remembered the first time you touched me, how my body danced with desire. I rubbed harder and imagined how good it felt the first time you entered me with your hard manhood. You were so considerate and so gentle. I don’t think I ever felt closer to you than when you and I were buried inside each other. When I remembered this, I wanted something inside me. I stuck my fingers into my hot, wet female place and started to wiggle them around, thrusting my hips the same way we made love.
Jim shifts in his pants. He is hard as steel at the image of his Anna’s sweet pussy and her tapered fingers pleasuring herself.
I was getting hotter and hotter but I couldn’t feel the fullness I felt with you. I wanted to feel something bigger than my fingers. I wanted my pussy to hug something and stretch to receive my man. I was at a loss, but my hunger was great. I know they make devices for that, but I’m far too embarrassed to buy something like that, not to mention I needed something IMMEDIATELY, so I had to figure out a better solution. I swear you were there urging me on. In an act of desperation, I grabbed my hairbrush. I took the handle and thrust it inside me. I spread my legs like I did when we were together and pushed it in as deep as I could. My fingers continued to caress my outer lips while my other hand kept the hairbrush moving in and out. I was lost in a cloud of desire as I mentally heard you moaning while you touched my face. “Oh Anna” you said over and over. My mind replayed those words as I worked my hairbrush faster and faster.
Jim needs to be alone to finish his letter. He needs to touch his stiff cock without the restriction of clothes. He finds a restroom and locks the door. Opening his pants, his cock springs to life, as he is flooded with images of his Anna touching herself and thinking of him. Holding the letter with one hand, he strokes with the other, wishing he were her hairbrush, and knowing she wishes the same.
Suddenly the same fire you brought to me started as an ember. I could begin to feel that melting explosion deep within. I worked faster and more frantically building on that ember. I grew hotter and hotter as my juices dripped down my hand and the hairbrush slipped more easily in and out of me. My other hand began to rub harder on that spot you always licked until I moaned with pleasure. Oh Jim… I felt it. I had an amazing climax. I learned how to relive our moments until you return. After the trembling subsided, I removed the hairbrush and lightly brushed my hair down there to experience again how it felt when you slowly brought me back down from my climax. Every morning when I fix my hair, I think of us. My hairbrush has become a continuous reminder of our passion.
Jim, my love, nothing will ever be you, but I think I can handle our distance in the meantime. I will write you each week and tell you about what I’ve done to keep from missing you too much. Please find a way to relive our lovemaking until we’re together again.
If only Anna knew, Jim thinks, as he reaches his climax. His love juice flows over his erect cock, as he imagines that her juices and his are mingling. Carefully cleaning himself, he sighs with relief. Satisfied and reliving their sweet lovemaking, Jim smiles. Oh Anna, I love you, he thinks.
With all my love,
Anna
