To my lesbian crush,

I haven’t seen you in years. Was graduation the last time? We’ve talked on and off since then, but nothing significant. I wish we could talk more, but I’m not quite sure how I’d even start a conversation with you at this point. That’s why I’m writing this for you instead. So you’ll maybe notice me again. You make me shy and quiet, and nervous and intimidated. Emotions I rarely feel unless I think about you. Because you make me question my sexuality, you make me question my desires, you make me question who I want to be.

It started as a simple interest in you. I was jealous of your creativity, of your art. Of the way your beautiful mind worked. How you could create anything from your imagination. And the women you drew, in beautiful fashion always, would be a mere reflection of how beautiful you are. I remember the day you found my nudes after you stole my phone. You were shocked, and I suppose, intrigued? Did you not have nudes saved on your phone? Was I the only girl in our class who did? But nonetheless, you saw them. You saw my body. I’m not sure how you felt that day, or if you’ve forgotten that day, but I haven’t. I wish you were more comfortable with me then, and we could have explored it. I was over at your parents house plenty of times after that day, a few times we’d change in front of eachother even. I’ve seen you in a bra, and a bikini.. But my greedy eyes have always wanted more, to see all of your beautiful sexy body. 

So now I write this for you, years later, in how I would react if I got another chance to see you again. I’ve never really hit on a woman before, much less an old friend. 

I would start by flirting shyly, testing the waters before I continue. I can already feel myself blushing, at the thought of being in your presence again, and making you smile for me once more. I would love to make you do more things for me though. I would love to hear what it’s like when you moan my name, I would love to see how you’d react to my touch, I would love to look at you as you came with me. 

Wherever we meet again, I hope I can get you alone, to have you all to myself. I’d start simple, with just a kiss on your sweet lips. They’re soft and just gently parted, with my lips pressed against them, I would breathe into you and take in every particle of air between us so that there is no space between us. I’ve gazed at your lips, for years, wanting to feel them on mine, or to run a finger along the soften edges of the slight upturned corners of your smile. My god your smile is absolute warmth in my heart. It’s delivered with a bronze golden haze like the morning sun. It’s your dimples that make it so irresistible. We’d kiss deeper, grabbing at your neck to bring you closer, as our tongues dance in the shared space of our mouths. As my lips keep you distracted, my hand would caress down your neck to your shoulder, grabbing your bra strap along your arm, pulling it down to show my intentions. I’d reach for the other bra strap, just itching to get your clothes off you. It’s a waste to cover such beauty, though even clothed, you still look devine. We finally pull away for air, and I take this opportunity to unhook your bra, without even taking off your shirt, and wiggle you out of it. I don’t hesitate this time to grab at your breasts, your full round D cups. Finally revealing your hard nipples, amplified by the tanned freckled skin of your breasts, and they find their place between my fingers. You softly moan as I pinch at them, and my entire body lights up in flames with the sound of your pleasure. I need to hear more of that, oh I just need more of you entirely. I have waited years for this moment, and now that I have you as mine before me, I will not waste a second with you. Ripping off your shirt, and fluffing your hair as I do so, we lay down on the bed and I quickly deal with my own clothes. I’m left in a bra and panties, and you’re left in a skirt and panties underneath. I lift your skirt, tangling our legs together. I can feel the ravishing heat from your cunt burn onto my thigh. You’re soaking through your panties. And so am I.

But this is the part that I shy upon. As I said, I’ve never been with a woman. I know from my own self pleasuring, what feels good. But would it feel just as good for you? If I run my fingers along your clit, and skim the inside lips of your vulva, will I feel your wetness? You’d question my pause in our foreplay. 

Maybe at this point you would take over, and show me how to love a woman properly. Or maybe you take the silent pause as apathetic, and  pull away. And that’s where it would end. Both of us soaking to the core, but untouched. All because I didn’t have the confidence to love you. Because I will never have the confidence to tell you how I actually feel about you.

Regards,

The girl you haven't seen in 5 years.

Some other thoughts...

While writing this, I couldn't get her out of my head, so while struggling to find the right words to describe her, I grabbed some paper and drew this loose sketch of her. It's not merely as good as her art, but it helped described her better. a quick sketch of her