Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Daydreaming


It's mid-morning.  The house is asleep, and you've just left.  The pillow is still warm against my cheek, still full of the smell of you.  I'm drinking it in, and thinking of your fingers entwined in my hair.  I roll to my back, and the shift in my weight exposes my nipples to the chilly morning air.  They're already erect, my breasts full and hot with the memory of your hands caressing their curves.  I lay still for a moment, enjoying the breeze on my chest, then my hands trace the paths yours took so recently.  I can still see you, sitting on the couch, watching me tease myself, asking me to make myself come again and again while you watch.  Your face was so full of joy and pleasure, your breath so heavy and lusty.  The first orgasm takes me by surprise, leaves me gasping and soaked.  I haven't even touched my pussy yet, but I can feel the result of that first orgasm dripping slowly down the curve of my lips.  I'm not ready for that yet.  My nipples are aching for more attention, and my mind is stuck on the beauty of clothespins and the gentle way you peeled my top down Sunday morning.  I loved that feeling, of being clothed and unclothed at the same time.  I loved the way the clothespins on my nipples rubbed the carpet while I knelt for your ministrations.  The memory of the paddle and your resulting excitement pushes me over the edge again.  My fingers wander to my panties, pushing them down just enough for access.  I'm stroking my lips, teasing myself with tiny flicks against my clit, thinking of you torturing me with the tips of your fingers.  Again, I come before I'm ready, before I've made contact with the hottest, wettest parts of myself.  Again.  Again.  I can't take much more.  I plunge fingers inside myself, other hand at work on my breasts.  The sound is tantalizing.  I can feel myself moaning but I can't hear it, all I can hear is you gasping as your hands strike me, hear you roaring with pleasure as you spill into me over and over.  The final orgasm is so intense that I can't move right away.  I'm breathless, face buried against the pillow, breathing you in, missing you fiercely.


I need you.  I want you.  Always.  Every minute of every day.  

No comments:

Post a Comment