*Hello my reddit friend. This is part two of a series of letter between a rich french tailor and the diabolical trophy wife of another man he encoutner en his shop. Part 1 is here :* [Link](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/g8qcnd/a_letter_from_your_rich_lover_waiting_the_end_of/)
*It was originnally written in french so pardon my mistaskes !*
*I let you to the reading but first a link of the dress that was send to this Madam with the letter :* [*Here you go.*](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MhiUcauOuwo/XW9zHM8Yp2I/AAAAAAADHII/4VQq3qO_CDUj-EJTRzpBx8Pf5pAN8oWzQCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/53659137_395169981295868_8318490853626053121_n.jpg)
Madam,
I must confide in you that I sometimes wake up with the all-consuming desire to own something. Some people would get rid of this burning desire by buying a villa or a boat, but I lost that desire a long time ago. There’s only one thing left for me to possess in order to satisfy it. A woman.
I call those days the days of necklaces. I never knew what it was about me that betrayed I was on such a day. But it is obvious my servants sense it. Is that the tone of my voice? The way I like to command? Perhaps the tension that rises as the day progresses in my gestures. In any case, they all left much earlier that day. All except the last one I caught up with on the stoop. A little toy for you.
There’s no lingerie this time in my little present. I want you immediately available. In the subtle play between desire and restraint, I only know how to be at the two extremes of the scale. These days, every extra second that separates you from my hands is unbearable for me.
Finally, the falling night draws on the landing the curves so long awaited during the day. You are at my door. I don’t know what spell you’ve learned to cast on me, but as soon as I see you appear like this, I always feel like there’s only one thing missing from my body: yours. My skin asks for your skin, my teeth for your lips, and my hand for your neck. I know that you were warned that I was dangerous. I don’t know where this legend comes from. I’ve only ever taken the liberties that women were willing to give me. But the ones granted to me, I took them all. Without exception.
The servant has been waiting in the corridor between me and you for many minutes. He already knows what’s going to happen. He knows that you know my taste. That you will play with him like a cat with its prey. Exciting him in front of me until he goes mad. That you’ll keep your eyes on him as you remove the one piece of cloth that separates you from the nudity. He still knows that it will be up to him to tie the black velvet necklace he holds in a box to you. That you will not fail to caress his crotch slightly with your perfect ass. Your image will forever be in his eyes. That of a divine and unattainable pleasure. That’s when I’d tell him to leave.
You are mine alone now.
Hard and boiling against my thigh from the first sound of your shoe on the marble staircase of the entrance, my sex points towards you as soon as it is released from its straitjacket. You didn’t wait long to get down on your knees. I find your tongue. Your lips are never more lovely than curled upon my cock.
But I didn’t bring you here just to come, but to taste you.
I grasp your shadow hair without a word, to pull you up to me and guide you to my desk. You already know what to do. I move the precious wooden table with a wave of my hand, leaving only a candle on it. You lie down nimbly on it. Open. On the house. I can still feel the fresh air on my cock wet with your saliva. Now it’s my turn to lick you. I imprison one of your nipples between my lips. Its reactivity excites me. It dialogues with my senses. It rises in front of my tongue. It bends to the subtle pain my bite causes. I release you. For a second. The candle in my hand, I watch the glow of the flame dancing on your tanned skin. It also seems to lick you. I bend the candle. After my mouth comes the bite of the wax on your nipples.
Your scream echoes loudly in the empty mansion. Even louder in my fantasies.
You surrender. I crawl between your legs with a greedy smile. I’m hungry for you. As my mouth seizes your slit, my eyes lock on to yours. I like to see your eyelids wavering between the pleasure that resonates inside you and my eyes asking for you. I want to taste you, certainly with my tongue, but in many other ways as well. She is not alone in this minimalist dance that unfolds in the hollow of your legs. My lips will come and walk the length of your slit so that I can taste the honey. The rest of my face will give another texture to our little dialogue of the senses. This is an excuse for me to perfume myself with a little more of your intimate nectar.
Your sex that becomes fluid water velvet. Your taste deep inside me mixes with mine. Thus lodged in the hollow of your legs, the eyes on the surface of your body, the magic of perspective makes me rediscover the landscape of your skin. Every little movement of your pelvis lets a sensual wave spread to your breasts in the distance that darts across the ceiling. I will wait for an orgasm to break out before leaving it.
At the entrance to the warm place waiting for me, I stop suddenly. I’m holding back from taking you. These few seconds in front of your lair, I feel my desire and yours reaching new heights. My tip rubs against your lips. I’m on the razor’s edge, holding the animal a few more seconds to excite it a little more. Until it turns against me. The blind and compelling need to enter the depths of this sex opened at my request. With my hand wrapped in your black mane, I abandon all restraint. The spell of your body has made me lose my mind, I will possess you until tomorrow.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gksu3x/m4f_youll_be_mine_tonight_a_letter_from_your