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From: [email protected]: [email protected]: Have you ever …? Dear Mari,First, my apologies for my sudden departure yesterday. And, yes, the lying. I had to be nowhere, and I wanted to be nowhere more than with you. I took flight! Again! And after the way our relationship is developing, it was silly taking flight. We are becoming partners in breaking our demure silences about our real sexuality, aren’t we? Believe me, dear Mari, I want us to continue.So, it was not your raunchy story about your sexual adventure with Robert the Builder that caused my hasty escape. Mari, I loved reliving with you, thrust by thrust, the searing pleasure from Robert’s magnificent cock. (I’m following your example, Mari. From now on, I will use the too-long avoided ‘dirty’ words!). No, I ran away from your by-the-way question about my extramarital affairs.I have been in the past badly blocked, especially regarding sex. With you, the main reason was that you were sexually so much more experienced and alive than I. Your so open sexiness both scared and attracted me. And now, as a widow and single like you, I dare to give way to this attraction. I feel ready to embrace sex. Paradoxically, I feel young and, therefore, more like you than I have ever felt before.I have already actively done something about getting sexually unblocked. You, Mari, I believe, would have approved!So, dearest Mari, forgive my shying away from your question about my extramarital ‘affairs’. Do not give up on me yet. About my having taken flight ‘again’, I will need to tell you more.For today with Regrets, YourRene.P.S. – God, I loved your Robert recollections! You were sexy beasts! From: [email protected]: [email protected]: Pussy-Envy!?My dear, still shy Rene,The subject tag above means to shock. If it does, read no further and press the delete button. We are going to see each other tomorrow. What I write in this mail would make even me, so much less inhibited than you, blush in telling you face-to-face. After all, I’ve kept silent about it for the last twenty-one years.Remember the summer break of our Uni-clique in Apollo Bay; the afternoon you and I decided we were getting burned, left the others on the beach, and returned to our cabins? I had left the key for ours with Michael. So, we finished up showering together in your cabin. Afterwards, I had to borrow one of your panties and, for me, too much revealing outfit. I remember every detail of this afternoon because I fell seriously – let’s avoid the cliché – in lust with you!I had no foreseen lecherous intent. We showered – you first – separately. Some time afterwards, I was struck by the idea of how deliciously sexy it would have been for the two of us to squeeze together into the tiny shower cubicle! When my turn came, you, shy Rene, were responsible for what was building up in my depraved mind.You stayed in the bathroom with me to chat. Not only, but also! While I showered and then dried myself, we talked. I could look at you, and you were not just naked! You were rubbing cream all over your – I suddenly noticed – sexy body. It responded to your own hands. Your berry-like nipples got nicely perky! When you sat down to apply the cream to your legs, as we talked. You faced me. And God, how wide you spread isvecbahis your legs in rubbing the lotion into your thighs!I looked closely, for the first time since I was nineteen, at another woman’s vagina. And seeing yours took away my breath. You had the most beautifully formed, kissable, fuckable pussy I could have imagined! It was a pronounced undulating hillock, slightly darker in colour than the surrounding skin. The slit parting down its top glistened like moistened lips and, as your hands massaged your thighs, they slightly opened and flashed at me a glimpse of temptingly luscious red. And my pulsating heating-up cunt signaled desire while my brain was torn by my pussy-envy.As you remember, my dear Rene, I did not act on being sorely tempted. Neither have I ever confessed my vaginal envy to anyone. Is it now too late, too unbecoming to remember both? As an examination question, it would conclude with – ‘Discuss.’ Shall we?Much more than just affectionally yours,Mari. Immediate Text Replies:R. to M.:All the things we missed out on, being ‘good’. I never suspected you as bi; never suspected myself either. I wonder, why not? Well, well! Love, R.M. to R.:Am so glad to know now that we were ‘possibles’ even then! Await with bated breath your next mail. Love, M. From: [email protected]: [email protected]: ‘Hotmail’ Reply.Dearest Mari,Have just returned from our afternoon together. Could not wait to get onto my laptop. We avoided, it seemed, talking about what was foremost on my mind. Holding back, my questions almost throttled me. But you were just playfully amused.I will still not ask my questions. Not because I am too shy. I don’t want to give up the thrill of having to wait for what you will tell me next. I am like a virgin, shivering in expectation of the coming, half-feared but hoped-for, forbidden touch! So, I better mute my inbuilt censor and tell you what I remember about our Apollo Bay afternoon.Dearest Mari, your confession has delighted me. Reading it repeatedly made me rub my so unexpectedly admired pussy into an alive state. On that afternoon so long ago, I missed out not only on being led astray but on knowing I could have been. My censor only allowed me an unusually prolonged time of nudity with you. Yes, it was hot, we were close friends. Still, unusual for us, we were naked. I was not one of the liberated young women that went topless at the beach or played strip-poker with the boys late into Maryjane- and drink-filled nights.I was a terrible prude, but – it’s time to confess – I loved looking at you naked. The men in our circle did not think of you as sexy. On one occasion, when you had the better of Michael in an argument about Shakespeare and stalked away, he, your husband, showed his colours. Pointing theatrically at your slim back, Michael declared: ‘Yon Mari has a lean and hungry look!’ Quoting the bard was met by his mates with roaring laughter: Michael’s wit had once again prevailed over his ‘scrawny’ wife!Mari, I thought the blokes were blind idiots! Didn’t they see your lovely long legs, ending in that beautiful ass of yours? It was a boy-sprinter’s ass that showed the play of every tensing muscle under its soft skin. And I loved the look of your smallish tits with their sexy isveçbahis giriş nipples. And there, in the shower, under your washing and drying hands, they had risen to perky, dark buds. The last but far from least of your sexual attraction for me was your glorious bush. Remember, Mari: It was then the beginning of the Brazilian vogue. However, we intellectual feminists were not going to shave our pubes child-like bare to please child-girl fixated males. The dark triangle, a third up your flat stomach, with your marvellous legs, so kissable tits and proud face completed for me the picture of a desirable woman. I thought my body, compared to yours, was insipidly ordinary.I am thrilled now that you enjoyed the afternoon we were nude together not only as much as I but more so. After all, I was not conscious of any bi-lecherous intent!? With your focus on my pussy, you must have enjoyed my lengthy search for something to wear in the suitcase and bags on the floor. I bent over a lot and not briefly either. God, did I do it deliberately? Did I stretch my round girl’s ass, my slightly open thighs framing my pussy knowingly in your direction? Did it, for you, so kissable lips show any glistening excitement?Did it get as steamy then as thinking about it does now? Enough writing for tonight.Sleep well. Your,Rene.Text Replies One hour after.M. to R.:Setting aside your possible/likely/drawn-out resistance, I would have tongue-tip-teased your pussy’s already glistening slit slowly open. And then my tongue would have sunk deep into your cunt’s red-hot core. It would have been the beginning of ‘kissing’ at length (breath bless him!Now to your query: Am I bi? Although I knew from my late teens that a woman’s physical attractions could sexually turn me on, I never thought so. It was as specific as that. I know now that you have always seen me as sexually adventurous. Yes, perhaps, but I did not like to make the first move. I wanted to be asked and pursued.In growing up, I was never girlish but rather exceptional as a student and gifted athlete. In appearance, while not ugly, I was for a girl too tall, too lean, and too underendowed with boobs and bum. Being unsexy, I was not drawn into my fellow students’ first frenzy and turmoil of teenage hormonal rush. While not an outsider, they thought, I suppose, that I was sexless.This was not the case. My parents had treated me as an intelligent adult. They made sure that I was in sexual matters informed and shared in their open-minded outlook. I was sexually aware and interested in sex, but nobody seemed to want to have sex with me. There was something about me that stopped others of my age from wanting me.During my teenage years, I competed as a runner and Netball player. Still, I was never sexually propositioned by a fellow athlete or coach, either male or female. I was, on occasions, seriously attracted but could not bring myself to make the first move.With one of my Netball teammates, I became sorely tempted. I was then in my first year at University, nineteen, and playing in the top competition. On one of our frequent interstate trips, I began to share a room with Karin, a recent addition to our team. She was twenty, even taller than I, but a voluptuous, Nordic beauty. Her parents were isveçbahis yeni giriş Danish, which could have been why Karin had such a relaxed attitude on nudity. From then on, we always shared a room. Therefore, I saw Karin often and for long stretches in her naked glory. And nature had blessed Karin in all the parts it had neglected me.I was not a prude. For my parents, nudity was not a shameful issue. I was also relaxed about the unavoidable nude exposure of myself and others in the dressing-sheds and -showers of the sporting clubs. In the group- and mostly hurrying-through situation, I had never looked with genuine curiosity at the tits and bums and pussies of my teammates. With Karin, it was suddenly different; very different!Notably, just the two of us were often in the undisturbed privacy of a hotel room. Karin slept in the nude, enjoyed staying nude after her shower. In the warmth of Queensland or the comfort of well-heated hotel rooms, she would lounge on her bed to read or chat on the phone. Sometimes we would talk, for what seemed hours, before Karin slipped into bed under covers. For her, it was a natural way to behave.Karin had, I believed, no idea how her Nordic, goddess-like beauty was disturbing me. Everything about her was perfect: Her skin, her beautiful long legs, her round firm breasts, womanly hips, and shapely, dimpled ass. She was a straw-blond, down to the silky-hair triangle that, to my eyes, accentuated her shapely pubes and pussy. And I suffered. I tried not to stare, to control the shaking in my voice. I had to resist the urge to touch Karin, to get too close to draw in the beguiling smell of her naked body. And, of course, I never let her know how much I wanted to make love to her. It was the first time in my life that I felt like that about anybody, boy or girl.Besides shyness and fear of rejection, a further hindrance was that Karin was engaged and in love. I still believed, in my then inexperience, in the exclusivity of one-on-one relations. So, I watched on more than a few occasions Karin on the phone, talking and flirting at length with her lover. She had told me that they had regular, fantastic sex.Often when she rang him, Karin was lying naked on the bed. He must have been quite a talker. He made Karin squirm and shift as he poured his sexy talk into her ear. Karin would look at me, smile and grin as she whispered back. Sometimes she would laugh out loud before switching into Danish and a sex-charged timbre in her voice. I could not help but watch her hardening nipples and the way her legs clasped together, with her fingers wandering into her bush. Or she would throw herself on her belly. With her thighs opening, her feet would angle up, and her toes curl in excitement. All this was, I believed, natural and spontaneous for Karin.I became aware that Karin enjoyed me watching her making love on the phone. Every look and smile, wink, and gesture in my direction told me so. And Karin, I thought it was purely accidental, did much to turn me on. In twisting around on the bed, she frequently flashed her lushly lipped, long-slitted pussy with its glistening pink centre at me. God, Rene, how that beautiful pussy of Karin tempted me to join her on the bed!I never ceased wondering if Karin would have responded? Was she, perhaps, quite willing to turn bi if I had decided to be lesbian? So, my dear Rene, you have my confession. Your beautiful pussy on that magic afternoon in Apollo Bay was not the first one I have lusted after.

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