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Some Nights Some nights I lie in bed and think of you. Your hands are on my body. Your voice is in my ear. The heat rising off you, fueling my own flame. Your lips trailing along my skin, finding the places that make me moan and writhe. The curve of my hip, the nape of my neck, the hollow of my throat. I burn with want, consumed by a need for your possession. This is madness I tell myself, sleep interrupted by thoughts of us. I read your texts again like they have new things to say in the darkness, things we dare not even whisper in the cold light of day. Too stubborn. Too pragmatic. My fingers trail along my skin and I pretend they are yours, although they are too soft and slender. I grip and squeeze, rub and tease, hoping for some facsimile of relief. I trace the heavy fullness of my breast, glide a path over the curve of my stomach and then dip lower, to where my body weeps for you. Do you think of me and do this too? I like to pretend that’s true. That you touch yourself and wish it was me, my hand, my mouth, the velvet vice of my cunt, gripping you. Memory and fantasy start to collide as my fingers move faster now, my clit a hard nub of need that throbs insistently. The plush softness of my pussy is a taunting contrast to your thick hardness, a reminder of how we fit together. I slide one finger inside, it’s not nearly enough. I add another and set a rhythm. I close my eyes and remember how you felt moving above me, your hair-roughened skin creating delicious friction as I writhed beneath you, my hips arching into the push-pull of your cock, setting a million nerve endings on fire. I rub faster, pinch harder, my breath panting out of me until the memory of your voice, low and harsh, demanding my pleasure is my undoing. I buck against my own hand, a soft, guttural noise escaping me. My muscles lock and shake as the pleasure crests, bliss hot and bright in my veins. I hover for a timeless moment, suspended in the ecstasy of the memory of you. Then the moment breaks and I am spent, panting and flushed, the ache of wanting to be assuaged. For now. I close my eyes and try to sleep. exoticeva~  "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.” |
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panting, flushed and then giggling 
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Now that's one sexy picture!!!!
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 "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
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