Letters to Milena 01

This story and its sequels contains: erotic MF coupling, romance, male oral, female oral, vaginal, doggy, tattoos, birth and incest.

Copyright 2005 N8Dreams, All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

Author's Note: Feedback is desired. Email comments to: the address in my profile.

1

Hi, Beautiful...

Yes, I know you don't look quite like that anymore, but I expect that age has not taken its toll, but instead has paid it. Possibly a bit more padding on the current model, eh? And a bit of character in the face. 'Bella' went nuts when she saw that pic of my face...I guess she thought I was going to be a person without character.

Faces with a bit of wear-and-tear showing on them are usually best to look at, and show the usual habit of the owner's mind. And anyway, I was talking about the lovely you...I would think that a bit more cushioning would not be at all objectionable...that sweet butt would simlpy become more caressable, more kissable, more ... nibbleable.

And yes, a lady should have "some breasts," (not too many, though, two is quite enough...) but I would tend to err on the side of too little, rather than too much, because too much is getting perilously close to the grotesque. If possible, I like the whole breast, or nearly, to fit inside my mouth, but I certainly don't insist upon it. Breasts are lovely things, and if a man truly loves a woman, he will love her breasts and they will tell her of his love, and she will know that she is his, and he is hers...at least for that time.

I shouldn't call you a "bad mix," you seem to be a very good mix, to me. But that is speaking physiologically and genetically only. Your soul is the same one you came here with, I know not how long ago, for I do not know your soul that well. I am beginning to get a little picture, and from the seemingly intense sexuality and the preference for blue eyes, you might be a member of the Folk.

If so, there will be other indications, and quite probably a strong soul-bonding between us, for it is my mission this time to bind the Folk to me that they be not lost when it is time to leave. They will come at my call, even if we have never met in body. So if you are of the Folk, your place is assured. We have increased greatly in our time here, and yet all of us go back to the beginning. It will be a mighty throng of us when we reach our long home, but it is big enough, and more.

Your remark about the other picture, the one in which the couple makes love...that is a VERY romantic question, dear, one worthy of one of the Folk...I should like to have sex with you on the basis of that remark alone. I'm sure you would be a wonderful partner to love, since you can feel that. But I do not think it is true, alas...for one thing, that artist is known for his erotic art and for another, look at the woman's mouth. She is licking her lips. But it is my opinion that the basic impulse behind the pornographic fetish is exactly that sort of spiritual urge, to unite with the loved one.

And now, perhaps I have already said too much...I think it is time for me to stop.

My dear, regards...

F. K.

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2

My dear Milena

Oh, I was only teasing you, my sweet Milena; it was but one of those spontaneous productions of the mind. I really would not prefer a woman with small breasts, for that would deprive my hand of something to love, caress, and tickle while my mouth was busy with the other one; licking, kissing, sucking and nibbling, perhaps even gently biting the sweet, wonderful sensitive tissues, so that the wonderful lady should know how she is loved, and either anticipate more and deeper loving, or to have an affectionate descent from the place that I love to send her. And who knows? Perhaps the old man has still enough left in him to take fire again from the beautiful nipple stiffening and fattening in his mouth, and take his lady on another trip.

And meanwhile, the hand loving the other breast may make loving excursions to caress the exciting curves and hollows of the belly, in some ways the most wonderful part of a woman's body, and long strokes up the beautiful thighs, and the pussy, the wonderful, plump pussy, the fragance of which, alone, can drive a man wild, and certainly can make him thirsty for the lovely Gush that comes when his tongue has done its work properly.

It is of no consequence that you have not put on more padding, for, in truth, you were a delicious thing to behold when that picture was taken, and that nice, strong butt would have, and very likely still does, feel wonderful in the hand, the hand of a man who comes to experience you, and to lift your spirit to the heavens, thereby lifting his own, for he has given you joy.

Indeed, if the men you know and knew were like me, those lovely buttocks would have drawn them to give you many passionate kisses, both on the beautiful mounds themselves, and square and hard upon the sensitive, delicate rectum that they flank. Ah, well...so much for my dreams. But I can tell you that "cute" is a quality that I might describe as "oversold," in relation to women's faces.

Oh, dear one, do not lament that sweet innocence of lost youth! It is appropriate only on the faces of the very young, some of whom, it must be admitted, are very, very sexy. But it soon palls, my older friend, because a face that is empty usually betrays a mind that is empty. How sexy were you when your breasts were beginning to bud? How satisfactory a partner do you think you would have been to someone besides an equally empty-headed boy, who wants only a convenient hole to stuff his penis into? What of a man who wants to love you? How satisfied is he going to be with a pretty body that only giggles?

He wants a WOMAN, able to understand his loving, to feel the passion she stirs in him, to react with pleasure as he carefully, carefully "tunes" her with his body and his mind, until he can give her the pleasure, nay, the ecstasy, that she deserves. And why does she deserve it? She is our past as a people, she is our future. She is the embodiment of love, she is the sweetness of honey, the bitterness of sorrow, she is the Love we spring from in the Creator, she is the Love we go to, in Tir-na-nÓg. She is the lesson-book from which we must all learn, until we are able to carry out the Creator's plan, which is to vanquish fear and drive it out; to fill the Universe with Love. We men must learn this, yes, but 'tis our women we must learn it from, for they already know it. And a woman whose face betrays her wisdom is the one to learn it from.

Well, that is what a man like me wants, anyway...I know not how many of us there are. But, for those of us who, Hundu-godlike, have more than two hands:

And that is MORE than enough for me! The thought is intriguing, but the impression is a trifle animalistic, is it not? One thinks of them having progeny in litters. And the pregnancy as resembling that woman in Iowa (?) a few years ago, who had SEVEN? Good grief! McCaughy was the name, I think.

And I must leave the rest of your wonderful letter to be answered later...people are beginning to wake around here, and Mr. Cat is telling me he wants food. And I have many things to do today.

Meanwhile, please accept my kisses...if you are sensitive, you will know EXACTLY where I'm kissing you, and what my tongue is doing. I also send a few quick nibbles...

Hugs and caresses...

you may call me Franz.

*

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Feedback is desired. Voting and comments are welcome, not anonymous more. Email comments to: the address in my profile.