Free Invitation to Ruin by Ann Vremont Page A

but you
must touch me to do so—how else can the carnal beast that possesses
me be driven out? A meeting will not be as difficult as you might
think. I am alone in my room now, Beatrice having returned home to
attend the trial of some mad family servant who killed her mother
and a serving maid.
    Do you not see how easy, then, it will be for
me to sneak out and meet you?
    You must agree or I will go mad with my
desire for you—desire so long contained and so long denied!
    Even now, alone, I do such things as to
endanger my immortal soul forever. The metal dildo, my Little
André, plunges in and out of my wet pussy as I write. To stop my
moans, I have stuffed undergarments in my mouth, the cloth ripe
with the pungent odors of my cunt. I imagine that it is your cock
wet with the taste of my desire that fills my mouth, even as I
pretend it is your cock simultaneously devastating my body with the
vicious thrusts of the dildo.
    Do you not fear for my soul knowing this?
Will you not help me!
    -L-

    May 10, 1787
    How short our meeting but how very
satisfying! The next time we must have more privacy. I know we
could have accomplished so much more today had you not feared
discovery.
    Did you find me wet enough, my love? I
certainly found your fingers talented. I had heard you studied
piano before taking your vows. I do not doubt this. I still tingle
at the way your fingers stroked my clit, pinching and pulling me
closer to climax before you thrust all your fingers into my pussy.
(Was that all you thrust? It felt as if, beneath my skirts, your
fist possessed me—so thick and firm. Ah, I am wet all over
again!)
    So, too, I remember how, dripping with my
juices, your fingers dared to penetrate my ass. Do you believe,
worldly as I am, that this was new to me? Now I fantasize of
nothing other than you filling it again—your cock in one hole, your
hand in the other.
    If only there had been more time! I would
know your taste, know the shape and length of your cock. When will
you see me again?
    -L-

    May 12, 1787
    Clever, daring man! Do you think Sister
Orinthia suspected anything? Ah, she does not, as some girls here
would claim, have supernatural vision that can see through wood and
stone. She would have died straight away had she been able to see
through your desk—seen me there at your feet, your robes pulled up
and cock ramrod straight, bobbing with impatience for her to leave
that I might take its full length in my mouth once again.
    Do my words make you hard with the memory of
it? I know my mouth waters still. You are, truthfully, the most
well-endowed man I have ever seen. I turned my hand just
now—examining my wrist and wondering how I managed to take
something nearly so wide in its diameter—to have its engorged tip
kiss the back of my throat.
    And the taste of your seed and how much of it
I drew from you. Though I loved it filling my mouth, sliding down
my throat and hitting my stomach to spread its decadent warmth
through my body—still, I have one regret. I would have you baptize
my face and body with your cum. Can you not see me covered with
it—face, neck and breasts glistening, my greedy tongue darting out
to capture its taste.
    How I long for the freedom that you might do
just that! And I have devised a ruse to allow us to more fully
explore one another, to sample every orifice the other offers until
we grow sluggish and dumb from sated passions.
    Do arrange, my love, a trip to the city this
week and but tell me when. I shall tell you where. And do not worry
as to clothes—you will be naked the entire time!
    -L-

    May 17, 1787
    I am complete! You have made me so and saved
my soul, without cost, I hope, to your own.
    What luxury it was to lay beside you—a day of
fucking before and behind us. Your juice on me and in me, your cock
filling my cunt and ass. Your mouth—Sweet God, your mouth. Your
tongue is as talented as your fingers.
    And, my darling, your trust, your sweet
anxiety as you let me penetrate you with