For the second time in a row, you managed to completely unnerve me. You are the only one besides Mr. X whom could ever make my hands shake so thoroughly.
“You’ll have to get started without me,” you said.
I didn’t need to. Perhaps before, that brief time when I was Yours. I may have needed help because I had gotten so used to you spoiling me with that tongue of yours.
I wish you could see the show we put on: our chemistry would make Tommy Lee and Pam Anderson blush.
Such familiar territory causing so much anxiety is honestly a wonderful thing for a girl. Sexual nirvana: seeing the same man take his clothes off and tingling every single time. Seeing his bare chest, the story etched on his body, his hands that can be so rough scraping lightly across planes of your body they have touched dozens of times before, each time like the first time.
“I don’t believe you….”
“You were a pro….”
This is what you do to me. That is all any of this has ever been with you. If I could only find a way to make others feel what you have made me feel since I first laid eyes on you, I could set the world on fire. I could make it burn hotter than Edie Sedgwick ever could have hoped to. Long, intense, thorough, never-ending.
I want to slip into the mind of everyone, take it over, and force them to know what it is to be me when I know you are watching me.
I cannot take control of you, so I take control of him, of others….
but with him, every time is the first time.
I cannot stand the coldness of the typed out words no more than I can stand yours, I need to hear him say it.
I need to hear you say it. Anything. Everything.
Hearing you whisper everything into my ear, on my neck, the inside of my thigh, echoing off of the delta between is the closest thing to fucking on cocaine I am ever going to get.
You could kiss and bite my neck and I would cum. It would not be a choice.
I watch you from a distance, I see your body, I hear your voice, I pretend my hands are yours. I tease forever. Light. Slow. It does not happen quickly, but when it does….