Letter To Amara

Dear Amara

We hardly even know each other. Our connection could best be described as “a weak signal”. But tonight sweetie, wherever you are in Harare, I really need you to pretend. I need you to pretend kuti you love me. I need you to pretend that you can’t breathe without me. Pretend that you badly need to be with me. Actually, pretend we are locked up in your bedroom, at your house, fucking the shit out of each other.. all weekend.. Me, on top of you. You, underneath me.. Svirorist style.. .

Pretend that the weight of my warm, muscular body pressing you into the mattress isn’t a bother. Pretend you can feel my warm breath as I lick, kiss and nibble on the back your neck.


Tonight, can you act as if my kisses resuscitate you, inspire you, enchants you? In my imagination, you NEED to me inside you, to connect with me as only lovers can do.


Pretend that you feel my thick dick, gently sliding in and out of your hot,  intensely wet pussy. Can you feel it? Can you feel it’s warmth? Can you hear your pussy fart as I push my dick deep in you? Fuck, I love those noises! Can you feel the friction as my big dick fills you up and stretches your pussy? Pretend that you need to make love to me, to give me your heart and soul while I fuck you slow and deep, looking deep in your eyes, whispering insults and snarling into your ears.


I want you to roll your eyes, pull the bed linen and violently vibrate as you cum hard on my dick. I want to feel your warm cum splashing all over my dick head. That shit always drives me wild! It makes me cum. Pretend that we both cum at the same time, and that you can feel my cum shooting inside you, every last drop.. reaching the pinnacle of pleasure in unison.. I know it’s only pretend but it would mean the world to me.




Sugar Dick Dupree

7 thoughts on “Letter To Amara

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