Wish You Were Here

My Dearest Jonathan,

I miss you already, and the plane isn’t even off the ground.

I fear that I am not going to be of much use to anyone at this confounded editorial conference. All I will be able to think about is you. Mmmmmm. Your kissing me goodbye so thoroughly that Frank was afraid we’d miss our take off slot. Your beautiful eyes watching me over a coffee cup this morning. Your hands and your touch as they heat up our shower. Your cute little butt walking away from me towards the bathroom. (You just don’t know what that behind of yours does to me.) You lying in our bed looking at me with love in your eyes, wearing an inviting grin and nothing else.

Lord, how did I ever manage to leave the bedroom, much less the house? You’re doing it to me again, and you’re not even here. I’ve been in an almost constant state of arousal since the moment I laid eyes on you. It’s a damned good thing you fell asleep on our first date. If you’d managed to stay awake, I’m afraid I would have forgotten myself entirely and had my way with you. I know by now that you wouldn’t have minded, but it would have given you a totally wrong first impression. At least you wouldn’t have been thinking of me as a “love starved matron” anymore.

I can’t think of a time I don’t hunger for you. Even after you’ve just plundered my body, making it sing hymns of satisfaction and praise, and you've left me to float along in a haze of pleasure, I still need you and want you with a longing so strong it almost scares me.

Whew! It’s going to be a long three days.

This has been the best month of my life, and I know that it is only going to get better. I have discovered in you the other half of my soul. I am better now than I have ever been. Your love gives me confidence and makes me feel whole and happy

I never knew about happy before. I have had a pleasant life, for the most part. I have been content and cheerful and pleased. I’ve even thought I was happy at times but I’ve never felt like this. I still have all those other good feelings but now “Happy” continuously bubbles inside me. It tickles my insides like butterflies and erupting now and then in great waves of joy…usually whenever I see you or talk to you or think about you and sometimes for no reason at all. Knowing you’re there, that you love me too, sends my heart soaring.

I know I’ll be OK this week. I am strong enough to withstand this small separation. Our love makes me feel that I can take on the world. I’m finding though, that I don’t really want to take on the world without you by my side. Our love isn’t the clingy type. I know we will have to be apart sometimes and I can do that. I just don’t think I’m ready to do it yet. This empty spot next to me is new and awkward. I reach for you or turn to say something to you and you aren’t there. The disappointment of not seeing you there makes me feel all hollow inside. I don’t like that feeling. My old bad self says I much prefer the exquisite feeling of fullness you give me when we make love. Now that feeling I adore.

Please keep sending loving thoughts my way. Your love is like a lifeline that I can hold to keep my head above water among all these people who aren’t you until I’m able to be back in your arms.

Great, being back in your arms again leads me right back to thinking about your touch and what it does to me. The lightest of touches from you can send shivers through me. Your hands, oh those lovely, strong, gentle, beautiful hands, touching me, holding me, driving me out of my mind. You are definitely a man who knows how to work with his hands and who loves his work. When you run them over my body my skin tingles and hums and sparks fly through my nervous system setting fires all along the way.

Your lips are so soft and I miss them terribly right this minute. I ache for the touch of your sweet lips on mine: a passionate kiss that deepens to let our tongues dance to the rhythm of our heartbeats. I long to feel them as they caress my breasts…and other places. You always know just where to put them. When you explore my body with your mouth the combination of sensations is unbelievable. Your mouth, with its agile tongue, knows all my most secret places and just what to do with them, to them, to unleash my wild side and bring me to the edge of oblivion and beyond.

Ooh! You do know how to show a girl a good time. I have learned so much from you. You have shown me that loving can be kind and gentle and wild and exotic and soft and hard and oh, a million other things and that it can be that way all at once or in many combinations. I’ve felt like a schoolgirl again with you, loving like life is all fresh and new and exciting with a lifetime of promise ahead. Your skill as a lover has brought me to levels of satisfaction and sensation that I never knew existed. I can only hope you’ve been as pleased with me as a partner as I have been discovering your many talents.

Looking back over this letter it does look like I am thinking only about your sexual technique. (…and I think about that ALL the time!) I do appreciate your other qualities as well.

My life partner is a very talented and caring man. You have heard of him, haven’t you? ;-) His skills in the business arena have earned him a fortune and the envy of all his competitors, but it is his humanitarian skills that are the most remarkable thing about him. Well, about his public persona anyway. He treats all people like they are valuable. He cares about everyone and helps whenever he can. He’s kind and generous and he has the most beautiful blue eyes that can snare a girl and make her lose her train of thought…Oh! See what I mean? He’s a good guy, a “do-right” man and he’s my hero now and for always.

I love you Jonathan Hart.

I would go on describing the things you do to me…and with me…but thinking about you this way, in any way really, just as we are being parted for the first time, isn’t a smart move. If I don’t stop I’m just likely to have Frank turn the plane around and come back home. To hell with my editors!

Sigh…I guess I can’t do that so I’ll just have to be good. As I sign off you may picture me in a bad way: flushed and breathing hard, with lips that are begging to be kissed and insides that are a quivering mass of longing. Please don’t be late picking me up at the airport on Friday. I have plans for you.

Sweet Jonathan, I know you will believe me when I say, with all my “Hart”…

Wish You Were Here!