Page 81 of Letters From Victor

When I reached the mound between her beautiful legs, I paused long enough to breathe in deeply—to delight in the scent of arousal—before pressing her knees apart and gently parting her.

My mouth met flesh already engorged and throbbing. I flicked her with the lightest touch of my tongue. She cried out, her hands flying to my head, weaving her fingers through my hair and tugging with desperate need. I licked her slowly, from bottom to top, savoring the taste of her. She bucked her hips, seeking more, but I held her thighs firmly to keep her at my mercy.

I circled her swollen flesh with my tongue, sending shivers through her entire body. Her breathing was ragged—each inhale a struggle, each exhale a whimper. Soft thighs clenched around me, the promise of release coiling hot and close. But I wasn’t ready to let her have it yet.

Pulling back just enough to speak, I said, “I do believe you missed me, angel.”

Barbara’s response was a strangled plea, her body writhing in a dance of desperate need. “Victor, please,” she begged, her voice breaking with the intensity of her desire.

I swirled and sucked a few more times before pulling away again. “Have you been using your vibrator like I asked you to?”

Barbara’s eyes widened, a flicker of hesitation disrupting the stormy sea of her desire. “Yes,” she said, her voice soft and uncertain.

I smiled down at her, running my fingers lightly over her inner thigh, just close enough to tease. “Where is it?”

She turned her head toward the nightstand, and I followed her gaze. “In the drawer,” she said quietly.

I rose from the bed, my erection straining painfully as I walked to the nightstand. The vibrator was in the top drawer, concealed beneath a few fashion magazines.

Barbara propped herself up on her elbows, her body a long, sinuous line against the white linens. She tracked the vibrator in my hand, a mixture of trepidation and anticipation on her face.

I walked to the wall socket, plugged it in, switched it on, and handed it to her.

“Show me how you make yourself feel good, angel.”

Barbara hesitated, her hand trembling slightly as she took the vibrator from me. The hum of the device filled the room with a low, electric tension. She bit her lower lip and glanced away, a flush creeping up her neck and cheeks. It was the first time I had ever seen her truly embarrassed, and the vulnerability made her even more alluring.

“Don’t be shy,” I said softly, my voice a caress. “You’re beautiful when you blush.”

She looked back at me, her eyes swimming with a thousand unspoken words. Slowly, she lay back on the pillows and spread her legs, knees bending to create an inviting curve. The vibrator in her hand hovered above its target as she teased herself with the anticipation of contact.

I stood at the foot of the bed, my eyes drinking in every detail—the way her chest heaved with each breath, the slight quiver in her thighs, the glistening sheen on her skin. My desire was a beast straining against its cage, but I held it in check, savoring the sight of her.

The tip of the vibrator finally touched down, and Barbara’s entire body jolted as if struck by lightning. A gasp tore from her lips, and her back arched off the bed. She pressed the vibrator against tender flesh with a tentative hand, rolling her hips in slow, agonized circles. Her mouth hung open, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, lost in the immediate rush of sensation.

I stroked my length—hard as iron and aching—as I watched the woman I loved succumb to her own touch. “That’s it, baby,” I murmured. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Barbara’s hand grew more confident, more insistent. She traced wet lines with the vibrator, dipping lower to tease her entrance before sliding back up to her clit. Her breathing wasquick—each inhalation sharp and desperate, each exhalation a trembling sigh.

“Keep going, angel,” I said, my voice thick with lust. “Just like that.”

She turned her head to the side, biting down on the corner of a pillow to stifle her moans. The hum of the vibrator mingled with the sounds of her increasing arousal, creating a symphony of erotic tension.

“Don’t hide from me,” I commanded.

She snapped her head back, eyes on me.

“I want to see how good you feel. I want to hear you cry out.”

Her lips parted, and the pillow slipped from her grasp. Her first true moan burst forth, raw and unrestrained. It sent a shiver through me, igniting every nerve in my body. I moved my hand in time with hers as I stroked myself, imagining her gripping me tight.

Barbara writhed on the bed with growing urgency. She tilted her hips to meet the vibrator, her movements more frantic, more desperate with each passing second. Her skin glowed, and her hair spread out in a disheveled halo around her face. She was the very picture of carnal beauty—an angel in the throes of human desire.

“You’re doing amazing,” I told her, my voice a low growl. “I love watching you like this. So needy, so hungry.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, then open again, locking on mine with an intensity that nearly undid me. “Victor,” she breathed, the single word a plea, a confession, an invocation.

“Don’t stop,” I commanded. “I want to see you come undone.”

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