My Love... Should we go on holiday again soon? Do you remember the last time, darling? I know I shouldn’t have left you to go sightseeing alone, but I felt so unwell, I suppose it may have been jet lag but never having had it, I can’t be sure. They were so kind to me at the hotel dearest. Did I tell you about them?
After you’d left for the day, I had a lovely sleep. Genuinely quite pleased not to be taking the coach; I’d had enough of travelling for a while. I know you mean well, darling, but sometimes I question your need to fill every waking hour with endless activity. I felt somewhat refreshed when I woke up, so I called down and asked them to send me a masseuse. I know you don’t mind my spending your money, darling, and anyway, it was a steal, so very cheap. Unbelievable! Though I wasn’t to know it when I booked, my masseuse was male.
I’m sure you’re delighted that I’m telling you now, although I suspect you knew that something had gone on in your absence because you came back to find me sprawled on our bed glowing and spent. Surely you didn’t put my languid mood down to jet lag, darling?
He turned up! An Adonis! I was captivated. He ushered me to the long bench-like seats on the veranda, under the shade of those enormous kite shaped parasol type things, I can never remember what they’re called, but they were so vast they sheltered the whole area of our terrace.
He laid me face down on the soft sheets and went to work on my body, my darling; I do wish you could massage me that way. Superb! He started with my back and shoulders...
***
I had to stop writing for a while, putting down the words made me feel so horny, I needed to slip my fingers into my panties and bring myself to a rapid but satisfying orgasm. I’ll return to the day of the masseuse later. While fingering myself, my mind worked overtime, I remembered so many things that I want to tell you, I’m not quite sure which part of my colourful and varied sex life to share with you next.
It occurs to me that I might be a sex addict, but you don’t mind do you, darling? After all, I’m in excellent company. When I think about all the famous men who have come out as sex addicts, I don’t feel so guilty; nevertheless, I can’t think of a high profile actress who has admitted the same addiction, alcohol and drugs yes – sex – no! Isn’t it strange, darling, that admission to drug and drink addiction is seemingly more acceptable than an addiction to sex, especially for women? Yet again, I digress, where was I? O yes, with the masseuse, later, darling, later.
As the flush of orgasm left my body, I remembered about the time I picked up a complete stranger at work. Do you remember him? I simply cannot, for the life of me, remember his name, no matter how long I wrack my brains (maybe they’ve been fucked out of my head, darling) I cannot remember anything except what we did that afternoon.
I invited him back for the ubiquitous and euphemistic coffee. As soon as I got him inside the front door, I dropped to my knees, freed his cock from his trousers, and gave him a blowjob whilst still in the hallway. He ejaculated into my mouth extremely swiftly, after which I led him into the lounge, sat on the sofa, spread my legs, pulled my panties to one side, and said.
“My turn now.”
He obliged a bit grudgingly I thought. I discovered that he was well up for being serviced by me, but wasn’t much interested in returning the favour. Still, we had a prolonged session that afternoon before I kicked him out because I wanted an early night. As you know, darling, I simply must have my beauty sleep, how else would I keep you and all the others interested?
Talking of which, I must stop now, I’ll write again soon.