Letter to a Taken Heart

Good morning, pornies. I just wrote something... Different. Way too different. I have to admit I'm a little nervous right now, so the incognito persona is helping more than never before! I'm always telling you I want to write more often, that I want to start with stories, and so on. However, I rarely do it because I'm not that confident enough, not as Kyler, and certainly not in English, and even more when it's erotica. At midnight, however, I decided to take my chances.

Source.

I enjoyed the previous letter quite a bit, and this time I wanted to try something different, to get out of my comfort zone, and explore that side I almost never let anyone know about. Everyone around me knows I make that kind of jokes, that I'm always ready when the chance comes, but when I don't discuss these things if not with a good, close friend.

This may not be my best letter, it wasn't easy, either, but I can promise I did my best. I'm confident about my fantasy, my paranormal, my romance, sometimes even my humor, but erotica? That's foreign territory to me. So, as always, any kind of feedback will be welcomed and appreciated.

PS: This is the other person I talked about in the first letter. Let me know if you'd like me to publish more of these, because I may start writing them for different lovers.

Kinky regards, K!

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I've been postponing this for so long because I know you may get the chance to read this. Who am I fooling? I know you will, and I wonder what will you think after doing it. Maybe I'm feeling bold, maybe I'm a fool, a mix of both, but I decided to give it a try, see what comes out, and what happens afterward.

Sometimes I like to think there could be something, other times I'm just a mess, feeling like an intruder, a masochist for allowing myself to dream with someone who's already taken. You can't blame me, though. You haven't helped me, quite frankly. You don't make it easy either. And I'm still there, waiting for a moment to say something, giving you just another hint, just another one, before turning into a coward once again. You see? You just did it again. I'm saying too much and not enough at the same time.

I think I like this pain, this confusion, this wondering about what could be, creating scenarios in my head, daydreaming while I'm in public. The things I've imagined, if only you knew. Sometimes I get bold enough and allow myself to go behind the mere visuals to explore feelings, flavors, aromas... I was already an expert at creating movies in my head at the smallest trigger. You just happen to pull many of them with ease, and I wonder if you even notice.

It's always easy. I just need a picture, a message, even the slightest form of attention, and I can picture us doing the unthinkable, switching roles over and over again, catching our breaths as the night goes on. I know it may sound ridiculous, but you can't blame a boy for dreaming, right? As I said, you haven't helped that much, and don't even get me started with those pictures. Pasty thighs? Sir, I may be developing a new fetish because of you!

As much as I try to keep some distance, stay respectful, be considerate, polite, and play it cool, with little result, I must admit, I still get lost in my dreams. We have so much fun in them, I have to say, and I love being the victim, letting you do whatever you want.

I always imagine myself in control with others, but with you, sir, I would like to make an exception. I would like to be just a toy for you to play with as you please. A piece of furniture you can use when you're in the mood. A servant, obeying your every command, saying yes to everything you want. An omega for you to use and abuse. I wouldn't mind, I wouldn't care, and I may regret it in the morning when this sees the light of day, but that's part of the fun.

At night, when I'm alone, when my worlds come alive, it gets all much easier. I can see my body exhausted, my mouth gasping for air, all my muscles sore. I like that I look so innocent, so pure, and I am, in a way. However, I like to think the contrast will have some effect on you, that it will make you want to, as the song says, "hold my arms above my head and push my face into the bed, 'Cause I'm a screamer, baby, make me a mute."

It's not only all so physical, mind you. I like that I can talk to you, and I'd love to do it more often, to be braver, to go a little further, let the friendship go somewhere, but I guess I'm always scared, always insecure. I can imagine all I want, but real life is something else. It's different. That's why I protect my dreams, my scenarios. I know exactly what will happen, when, how, and, most importantly, with whom. I've collected so many pictures and videos with these years, and I may be thinking about putting your face in some of them. Maybe. And then I remember you're taken, your side is already taken. I respect that more than anything, which is why I always keep some distance.

I'll leave this here. I need to go back to my dreams, and hopefully, you'll be there one day. Yes, I must confess: I haven't dreamed of you, not when I'm sleeping, not yet. When the sun rises, I'll go back to be the same insecure, shy guy you know, but at least you'll know a little more. Maybe more than you expected, but more nonetheless.