My name is Lynne and I'm 35 years old, I'm married with no kids, probably because my husband is not into sex very much. It's very frustrating and became even more so when I read the Letter. It was written by an aunt, in fact my mother's oldest sister, who died recently aged 82. As I was her favourite niece and there was no other family member anywhere near where the area where we both lived I was asked to clear her house. When I found the letter, it wasn't in an envelope and all I knew about the proposed recipient was that her name was Daphne, I say proposed because, although old, it had obviously never been posted. The contents shocked me being an account of a sexual experience that she had enjoyed many years ago, in fact during the War years and was an account of what had happened, something she apparently had enjoyed very much. Here is what it said, it will become apparent why I thought of putting it on here when you read it! 'Dear Connie, you'll enjoy this as I know you like a good saucy story! As you know Paul has been away in India, with the Navy, for too many years and, as one does, I got frightfully frustrated. Remember the days when we used to play with each other before we really knew what sex was all about? I know that when you first had it, you then couldn't get enough, well in a way that's what happened with me. Obviously I had sex with Paul when we got married, but he was gone in less than a week afterwards and like you I really wanted more. Well, at first I used to use my finger like we used to do with each other, but it's nothing like the real thing, is it? So, and I know it sounds awful, but I found a carrot about the same size as Paul's dick and used that! Better but still not the same, however, I persevered. Then I got involved in a club that was set up locally for servicemen, we used to provide refreshments and a bit of talk, you know somewhere for the lads to relax and that. Then someone had the bright idea to have a dance once a week, there was a local band that they persuaded to provide music and it was a great success. Obviously being young and pretty I got asked to dance quite a lot, often, to be honest, I could feel a hard dick pressing against me, I used to get aroused and used a carrot when I got home. Then one evening I had danced with several of a group of sailors, not unusual seeing as I lived in Portsmouth, it got quite steamy with these lads and I got aroused too. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I hadn't had sex for over three years and when it was suggested that we all go to a hotel after the dance I agreed. There was just me and six sailors, well you know what sailors are! They knew a hotel that wouldn't ask questions, no sooner were we in the room than I was being kissed, more hard dicks against me! Then someone was caressing my tits, it got me going a bit. Then they were all round me, one was kissing me, one feeling my tits, another stroking my bum and finally one with his hand up my skirt! I was wearing a pair of french knickers that I'd made from parachute silk so it was dead easy for whoever it was to get his hand on my quim. He soon found out that I was wet and he told the others. One of them said, 'Come on Jean, we're all off to the Far East next week, give us a bit of fun!' By then the bloke feeling me up had really got me going, I didn't say anything, I was feeling shocked but knew that I wanted to do it. For all I knew they might never come home again, so I didn't stop them when they started to strip me. I was soon laid on the bed, one bloke was kissing me, another playing with my tits and kissing my nipples and the one who'd been feeling me up was playing with my quim. He knew all about the little man in a boat and when he got between my legs I didn't want to stop him putting his dick in me. His dick was a lot bigger than Paul's and it felt so good pushing up inside! Then he began doing it to me, you know, oh, it felt wonderful! Anyway he did me until he came, I didn't even try to stop him doing it inside me, I was kissing him and digging my fingers in his back as he shot it right up me. Someone had brought a bottle of gin with him and we all had a drink or two while they were messing about with me. Of course you know I don't drink much and I soon didn't care about anything and when one of them said, 'Come on Daphne, you let Ted have it, how about us?' I just said, 'Go on then.' The next kid got on me, no kidding he looked about eighteen, but he had a nice dick that I had a good feel of while he was nibbling my nipples. Then he slid it in, went in dead easy, I had all that spunk up me of course! He was good too, lasted twice as long as the first one and then come right up me, he had loads of spunk! The next kid soon pushed him off and pushed his dick up me, all that spunk and juice was squirting out of my quim all over me.... and him and drenching the bed! I was well satisfied, but of course I couldn't then refuse the others so I had three more of them doing me. One of them came as soon as he put his dick in, cursing his luck, the others laughed they said it was because he hadn't 'fucked' a woman before. Didn't like the language much but as I immediately had another one up me I soon forgot about it. He did quite well, I had spunk all over my thighs, bum, stomach, everywhere really, I'd never been so messy in all my life. The next one I thought must have been married because when he was in the throes he called me Marion. Anyway, I reckon he did me for well over ten minutes I'd never had anything like it and I loved it. I loved what followed too for two or three of them came back again including him. By the time they'd finished it was about half one and we all washed in the basin and dressed and then they got me a taxi and sent me home, but not after thanking me for being such a good sport, I kissed them all and hoped they all survived. Which is more, as you know than, my Paul did. The following week I got a telegram telling me that he'd been killed in a flying accident. I felt bad about it for a while but then I shrugged, 'c'est la guerre' as the French say and I've had a different way of living and loving since. So that's it, Jean, I know I was a real naughty girl but I don't regret giving those boys what they wanted. Love Daphne.' And that is what that letter said, I haven't told anyone else in the family and, as was obvious, Aunty Daphne never actually sent the letter, perhaps she thought her friend might not approve or perhaps, even, it excited her just recalling what she'd done? Who knows?