May 27th, 2015
It was after their first show in Europe, Stevie was sitting on her bed in her expensive hotel suite in London. Karen had already left, and now, she was all alone by herself, trying to relax while some stupid series was on the TV. Her mind wandered back to their show tonight and she couldn't help but think about Lindsey. How he had looked at her tonight, how he had accidentically brushed against her one or two times on stage, causing shivers to run all over her body.
She closed her eyes, pushed her head back into the matress and tried to remember how soft his lips and the weight of his body pressed on hers used to feel, his hands roaming her skin, touching her, his tongue sucking, his teeth biting her.. She sighed in frustration. It had been ages since he had touched her like that! Honestly, it had been years since anybody had touched her like this. But with Lindsey it had always been different. Being a rockstar on the road, she had slept with a lot of men in her life but no one had ever come close to Lindsey's skills in the bedroom and from time to time she loved remembering their love-making. She may be old but not dead and she still had her needs.
Her fingertips moved lightly over her body and when her fingernails brushed her breasts through the thin fabric of her black silk nightie, she felt her nipples harden by her touch. She let out a soft moan. Oh, how much she wished right now it was him touching her like that...
A familiar tingling ran through her private area and she pressed her thighs together to feel the most out of it.
All of a sudden, an idea came up on her mind and she sat upright in her bed, grabbing her beautiful signature letter paper from her nightstand, where Karen had left it, and a pen.
Dear Lindsey!
We haven't spoken in awhile, you know like really spoken, and maybe that's my fault. Maybe it's yours; I don't really know. And though, even after all this time, I have to admit that yes, I am still wildly attracted to you. I assume that I'm not what you want anymore, it's been years since we shared more than a casual kiss on the cheek but still... It's not that I wanted to stop talking to you or seeing you, but you've made it obvious that you simply aren't attracted to me anymore by choosing your much younger wife and a family life over me - and I'm fine with that, now. You seem happy to me and that's what I always wanted for you. But sometimes, I go back in time and remember our last night together back in 1997 when we were seeing each other, if you want to call it that..
Stevie took a moment to read what she had just written, then went on scribbling on the piece of paper.
And even after all this time, 18 years to be exact, I still find myself thinking about you. If you think about me like I do about you when I touch myself from time to time and my loneliness (that I'd never admit to anybody) is eating me up once again. You seem to be my sweet little oasis in my desert of celibacy.. That's how I see you.. You're my fantasy, my dream within a dream, that I keep in a secret corner in the back of my mind.. You'll never know the truth; you and I can't have these discussions face-to-face, remember?
I want to talk to you specifically about the last time we had sex. Since you have such a shitty memory to begin with, I want to know if you remember what happened that night. I do, and I think about it often. So often lately, in fact, that it's kept me up nights, my own hands tracing the path that I remember yours taking. It's kept me up thinking to the point that I'm now writing this letter.
I think it was a Friday night. It was cold outside, I remember, but wanting to impress you, I wore a low cut v-neck dress (of course, in black) with some thin nylons (yes, the sheer ones you love so much because they look sexy on my legs). I figured it really wouldn't matter, seeing as how your hotel room was just three doors down from mine and I just got back from having a few drinks with the girls. I remember being a little tipsy and feeling extremely bold that night - maybe one of the many reasons why I came knocking at your door to see you, though we had already broken up (again) back then, and Kristen was pregnant with your first child.
You opened the door, looking sexy as usual. You are still the only man I know who can make sweatpants and a t-shirt look so good. I sat in your living-area while you tinkered around, fixing us some drinks. You gave me a tumbler full of something, I don't remember what exactly, and we sipped and talked, occasionally watching the TV in the background.
After two of those tumblers, I remember getting very warm and taking off my coat that hid my accentuated cleavage from your view. Then I remember you saying you hurt your back on stage.
"I really fucked up my shoulder this time", you told me.
"Poor baby", I purred at you, "What can I do to help you?"
You grinned at me, dimples deepening in your cheeks. "Give me a back rub."
I sat down on your bed, with you sitting between my legs and your head facing the TV screen in front of us, and started to knead your back. First over your shirt, but eventually I worked my hands underneath and started rubbing your bare flesh, tracing my fingers up and down your spine, rubbing the base of your neck, massaging the hollow spots behind your ears. While I did this, I remember you rubbing my calves with your hands. Leaning forward, you ran your hands up and down my legs, making my heart race. This was probably the least erotic thing a man had ever done for me, rubbing the bottom of my legs, but since it was you, and any touch you give me is fair game, I was instantly turned on.
I finished your massage with a light kiss to the back of your neck.
After a few minutes, you said it was getting late and announced you were going to lie down. I didn't want to leave just yet and I noticed your eyes fixating my breasts that were literally screaming at you 'Take us out!'.
So, I lay down with you, and you pulled me close to your body like you always used to do. Emboldened by the alcohol, I'm certain, I started to rub your abdomen and chest. Your body always amazed me; you are an athletic guy, that's for sure, and evident in the definition and tone of your body. When I fantasize at night, it's your body that I imagine holding mine...
At this point, my memory does get a little fuzzy as to the events. I do remember you sliding my body on top of you, running your hands all over me. I remember you kissing me violently, and your hands that slowly wandered up my legs under my dress to squeeze my butt that was only covered by some black lacy panties. At one point, you unzipped my dress and pulled it over my head to throw it on the hotel floor. You started kissing my chest, moving your mouth back and forth, licking and sucking on the exposed skin of each of my breasts that wasn't covered by my matching black lacy bra until you impatiently pulled the straps down, unclasped it, and shortly after, it joined my dress on the floor. By then, your tongue was lustfully circling my nipples that were hardening under your touch. I felt your warm, damp breath on my skin, your lips that closed around my peaks to suck them sexually into your hot mouth. I remember how my eyes closed, how I threw my head back in satisfaction and moaned your name in pure lust. You've always been amazing in touching me.
Then, I remember you flipping us around and pinning me on the bed with you above me. One hand you clasped with mine together over my head. The other you slid down my body, over my trembling belly down to my panties. I tried to move my hands to pull them down, but you held firm. Instead of pulling them off me, you slid your hand inside and started to play.
I remember you circling my clit with two fingers, softly at first, then more rapidly. You started tugging on it, moving it up and down with your fingers. At this point, you let my hands go, and I grabbed at your head, the pillows, the bedsheets.
You continued your assault with kisses to my chest and my stomach. Tracing your tongue along the lines of my abs, and circling around my bellybutton. God, you're so good at this!
Then you stopped. You took my left leg first, stroking my skin through my nylons, then removed my shoes, slowly, while kissing and nibbling behind my knees.
Slowly again, way too slowly for my taste (but you always loved teasing me, you little bastard), you rolled down my left nylon, your tongue following the thin material down my leg and off my foot.
My eyes watched closely every single move you made on me when you repeated the whole procedure on my right leg, and by now, I was so fucking aroused, I felt like exploding any minute.
Finally, you kissed, sucked and bit your way up my legs, leaving little hickies on the softest parts of my inner thighs, like a brand, and then you pulled down my panties.
I remember you stopping for a moment, your eyes capturing every single inch of my exposed body in front of you. And all my insecurities were washed away when I saw the bulge I had created in your pants. I smirked contentedly at you, my hands grabbing your sweatpants, sliding them with your boxers down your thighs. Your shirt and socks followed too, until I had you completely naked kneeling between my legs, your hard, thick cock thrusting in anticipation into the air. I closed my hand around your length and sensually worked on it. Up and down. Up and down. Slowly, first, then quicker, harder, just like I know you love it. I still hear you groaning my name when I wetted three of my fingers and massaged your glans and gently squeezed your balls.
"You love that, don't you?", I asked and licked my lips.
You growled in response, then grabbed my wrists again to stop be from feeling you up any longer, lay fully down on me, and met me in another breathtaking kiss.
Mmmm, you're such a perfect lover, Linds!
Again, your worked your way down my body, kissing, licking, sucking, biting - it doesn't matter, you did it all - and fuck, you did it so very well!
My moaning had turned into whimpering, crying, screaming. I wanted you so badly! Still want you now, while I'm writing these lines and I feel my whole body being on fire, remembering the soft, warm touch of your tongue between my thighs. I felt you once again circling my clit - but this time it wasn't one of your fingers doing the task but your tongue. I felt you sucking on my swollen lips until I loudly cried out your name, your tongue sliding in and out of me, lapping out my juices, telling me again and again how 'fucking delicious' I tasted.
I felt myself starting to tighten up, I wanted to come so badly by then, you sensed it and stopped. Smirking, you looked up at me, watching me wiggling in frustration.
"Make me come! Please, Linds! Please!", I cried out but you shook your head, saying 'not yet, baby'.
You grabbed your dick and started stroking it shamelessly in front of me, your eyes once again wandering unapologetically all over my body. I was shaking. I wanted it. I needed it.
Once again, you lowered your body down on mine, and I felt your length sliding through my completely drenched sensitive area. We were both heavily breathing then, when you finally decided to stop torturing us and slid inside of me.
I arched my back in pleasure. You started moving very slowly at first, in and out of me, but you soon started pumping harder and faster, either from the excitement of the situation, or because you hadn't gotten laid in awhile, I'm not sure. We switched positions a few times. Once I was on top of you, riding you, and then you were behind me, hands tight around my waist, pumping in and out. I think you liked this position the best, because you grabbed my ass, my hair, and my breasts. It seemed like you had eight pairs of hands, and they were all touching, caressing, grabbing my body. I remember you moaning, almost growling softly, in my ear as you came. A few seconds later, I came too, my whole body going into convulsions, and screaming your name.
I stayed with you that night and watched you drifting off to sleep while I lay awake until I slipped out of your room in the early morning hours without telling you goodbye. There was no way, we'd ever repeat what happened that night and I knew that back then, still know it today. We carried on the following weeks of the tour as if nothing happened. Then, we separated and you disappeared to be with your little family and watch your son coming into the world.
I'd like to think that I was more than some random piece of ass for you, but I'll never really know. The great thing about this letter is that I know you'll never see it, so I can say whatever I like.
What I guess I'm trying to say is that I remember what it was like, when we were still close. I hope you do, too.
I still miss you, not only as my lover (still I have to admit, till today, you're the best I've ever had) but also as my best friend. It's sad that we cannot even have a simple conversation anymore without getting in each others faces.
Still, I love you, Lindsey. I always have, I always will.. And that's never going to change.
You may be the one, but you'll never be the one..
Secretly yours,
Your little gypsy Steph
Over and over again, Stevie read her letter. It aroused and saddened her all at the same time.
Eventually, she took the piece of paper, folded it and stuck it into an envelope. She wrote 'Lindsey' on it in big beautiful letters and set it on her nightstand.
Never ever, she would hand him this message but it was nice to have it for herself and read it from time to time.
Half an hour later, she drifted off to sleep.
--
The following night she returned later than usual to her hotel room after tonight's second show in London. She was completely exhausted when Karen guided her into her bedroom and helped her out of her stage clothes that were soaked in sweat. The show had been fantastic but extremely exhausting, as well.
When she came out of the shower and returned to the bedroom with damp hair, no make-up and only dressed in a towel, her eyes wandered to her nightstand to find... NO ENVELOPE!
Quickly, she ran around the bed to look if it dropped to the floor - but it didn't. She rummaged around the bed and the drawers of her nightstand.
Where was the fucking letter?!
"What are you looking for?", she heard Karen's voice coming from the door frame.
"I.. There was an envelope on my nightstand.. I.. I have no idea where it is.. I'm pretty sure I left it here..", she said agitated.
"You mean the one with Lindsey's name on it?", Karen asked nonchalantly.
"Yes!", Stevie said quickly and turned around.
"Oh, I handed it to Lindsey this morning when I found it on your nightstand..."
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Okay, what do you think? Do you like it so far? Shall I go on?
Much love, Lara