a cliche letter to my lover

Dear Donny,

I need to be tied up and violated in ways my mother never even thought to warn me about.

I need you to call me and tell me to prepare my body. I need you to give me excruciating explicit directions: what to shave and what to leave; what to wax and what to trim; what to cleanse and what to let lie; what to insert and what to carry; what to wear and what to leave off.

I need you to bend me over your kitchen counter and part my shirt, lift my skirt, peel back my panties and look to see if I have followed the letter and the law of your directives. I need you to open the drawer to the right of me and take out your wooden spoon, and I need you to use its rough wooden handle to check to see if I am wet.

I need you to whack the spoon end against my pink, round and willing ass if I am not. (I need you to leave marks.)

I need you to have told me to have brought my ballgag. I need you to tell me to show it to you. I need you to fit it in my mouth and I need you to pull my head back by my hair as you whisper in my ear your pleasure and/or displeasure, as you tell me your will.

I need you to praise me for having ridden the train in my short skirt and my buttplug.

I need you to lead me to your bedroom and to tie me spread-kneed and dog-kneeling on your bed.

I need you to blindfold me.

I need you to sweep your flogger like gentle leather rain down the length of my body.

I need you to pull your arm back and I need to hear the second-splitting sound of the swing before you hit my ass, my back, my thighs with precision and force. And then I need you to do it again and again and again (until I lose count and with the count, my tether to this mortal plane).

I need you to bring me close to tears. I need to keen around the red leather ball of the gag. I need you to hear the songs you make me sing. (I need to sing their wordless refrains.)

I need you to careless caress my body, and I need you to whisper sweet nothing sweets in my ear.

I need you to remove the gag and I need you to kiss me with oxymoronic tender force. I need you to split my mouth with your tongue.

I need you to kiss and suckle my inflamed naughty bits. I need you to deny me the pleasure of sucking your cock, though I also need you to present it before my open mouth.

I need you to untie me and turn me over. I need you to raise my legs in the air. I need you to wonder outloud and at length at my wetness and I need you to enter me. I need you to claim me as your slut your whore your cunt your bitch your better.

I need your lovely catholic cock to fuck me. With precision and with abandon.

And then I need your cock to fuck my ass. (I need to be made a sodomite by you. Again.) I need you to remove the buttplug with an audible “pop” and I need you to lube your cock. And I need you to slide it into me inexorable as fate and loving as a thunderstorm.

I need you to watch in the mirror as you do so, and I need you to tell me what you are doing. I need you to describe in Technicolor lavish language what you are doing and how it feels.

I need you to make me want to come.

I need you to deny me permission to come.

I need you to withhold permission until you are ready for me to come.

I need to receive your permission, your word, your command to come.

I need to come and I need to scream like the godfree demon banshee bitch I am.

I need you to fuck me after I’ve come with remorseless pneumatic energy. I need to feel as if I cannot take another stroke of your cock and then I need you to give me five, ten, twenty. More.

I need to feel my body shimmer in its submission.

I need to feel deep in my bowels the contractions of your cock the spasm of your body the rumble of your orgasm.

I need you to collapse tired shaking sweaty on top of me.

I need you to hold me and kiss me and tell me that I have been a very good girl. I need you to tell me you love me and I need you to hear the same from me.

And I need, need desperately, need wantonly, need profoundly, need to the power of infinity not to have to tell you that I need you to do all this.

Now, please. I need ityouit now.

With love and demented devotion,
Chelsea Girl

Comments

[Jack]

I wish I would get a letter like that, very nice.

[figleaf]

Hi CG,

I'm a little conflicted by this post. On the one hand it's terribly erotic and *wonderfully* specific. On the other hand it's also a remarkably exact script. But on the third hand you want him to follow that script without knowing about it. I've only got two hands, though, so that would be a problem for me and, I suspect, Donny.

I feel like a jerk saying that, but I'd feel like a bigger jerk if I just jerked off at your explicit longing (or used it as crib notes if I ever had the chance with a willing partner) and didn't stand up, at least a little, for the poor shmoe.

I know you know this. I also know that Donny isn't superman no matter how much you need (or, in my opinion *deserve*) him to be.

A nice compromise might be to send him the letter with a postscript saying only "Improvise! Riff! Play cruel jazz on my body."

I care a great deal about you, CG. Good luck.

figleaf

[ShannonPowers]

And to think I had the temerity to use the word "gash." No, really.

[chelsea girl]

Jack--I wish you would too.

Fig--thank you for your caring. I never said I had any of this stuff figured out, nor do I hope I ever do. If it makes you feel better, I read this letter to Donny on the phone last night. "That's hott," he said in response. And then we had phone sex.

And Shannon--"Gash" is just awful. It really, really is.

[ravenna]

Oh darling Chelsea Girl that is so so so beautiful, and how could a man not walk through fire for a woman who would write such a letter to him, and how could every woman not want to write this letter to the man she loves and yet I know it's *not* every woman who could or would dare, only us girls from the same hot wet dirty little planet you and I came from, all of us needy girls who read your letter wet and thought with a pang right through her clit *Oh yeah I'm so there you and me babe I need it too* and this is so much like the letter I write to the man I love every day and night with my body a line at a time, every time he touches me. Thank you for saying this for us, you are hot and brilliant, and Donny sir please please please give the Girl what she needs she deserves all this and more...

[Goose]

If I were Donny, I'd have a hard time staying away that's for darn sure. Hot, indeed sweetie, hot indeed.
Goose

[PussyTalk]

The best, truest line: "I need....not to have to tell you that I need you to do all this."

Aye, there's the rub. A man either knows all this instinctively (a rare and beautiful find) or he has to want to learn it himself through his own creative explorations with a woman. If he has to follow directions or a script that I give him, I'm sorry, it ain't workin' for me or for him.

DTG xxoo

[Autumn]

As you know, I for one did not find myself in the same place when I read this. However, the need for a man to "just know" what I want, or to learn it over time, is something I know I've felt over and over again.

No matter how different our tastes are, we all seem to want something the same. :)

[ash]

you are a needy one, aren't you Chelsea Girl? but then, aren't we all? human, that is...

thanks for the courage to scribe a basic element of human nature - connection without effort; understanding without explanation; fleshy greed without guilt.

yes, it's need. but it's need inverted. it's the self not being selfish, but the exact opposite - the self not wanting to be alone in need. just one knowing the other. the coffee knowing the glazed donut. the sun knowing the horizon. the plant knowing the soil.

it's really not too much to ask, is it?

[The Zero Boss]

I'd just like to point out that there's nothing cliche about "godfree demon banshee bitch".

That is all.

[Michael Blowhard]

Why "cliche"?

And good for you for writing and publishing this. Can't have been easy, though if it was, then wow. God only knows why it's so often so hard for so many women to formulate even vaguely what they're looking for. And God only knows why the ones who are most forceful about what they're looking for often seem to be fooling themselves ... On the other hand, we guys can be awfully simple and dull, no?