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It has been years since we last spoke.
Most days, I can successfully block out memories of our time together. The precious moments we shared, the times you made me laugh… every time you teased me into begging.
I’m a proud woman. You know that. You knew that every time you sent me to my knees, pleading for the taste of your cock, or when you brought me to the edge of the cliff and refused to push me over. I’ll never forget the glint that appears in your eyes when I remind you – with my words, my actions – that only you are entitled to my secrets, the ones I’d planned to take with me to the grave before and until I met you.
Today I’ll tell you yet another one: On some days, the image of you still haunts me. Today is one of those days.
I have work due tomorrow. Work that should have and would have been completed by now, except you won’t leave me alone. It’s almost as if you’re physically here – you’ve never let me work in peace. My thighs still clench tightly together as if you’ve just made a provocative comment that so easily cuts through the monotony of the words and numbers on my screen. My pussy throbs with need; I imagine your fingers lightly trailing my sides, up and down, knowing that every slight movement sends tingles south – making my pussy slick with desire – as well as up towards my breasts, my nipples tightening into tense buds thirsting for your touch, begging for the pressure of your fingers to force them into submission. I let out a moan, but tonight you’re not here to hear it, to chuckle at the sheer power you possess, at how easily you’ve taken away my control.
Even now, you continue to overpower me. I can’t stop imagining your fleeting touches, the deep timbre of your voice, or the expressiveness of your face. I can no longer pretend that I’m at least trying to concentrate on my work.
This place is filled with memories of you. The smell of your cologne still lingers on the clothes you never came back to retrieve. The counter, the couch, the door, it seems like you’ve fucked me over and over again at every corner of the house, as if you’d made sure to mark your presence over every inch of the apartment.
The bedroom is my favourite place, though I never told you that. It reminds me of slow mornings, mornings bursa escort when you let me play with you as we waited for the Sun to rise, mornings when you slid gently in and out of me, both of us only half-awake, and it seemed like we were the only people in the world.
The first thing I do upon reaching the bedroom is to open the closet. I strip quickly and put on the navy lace bustier you always loved along with the matching thong, even though you’re not here to admire me this time. It doesn’t stop me from imagining your heated gaze, the way your breathing would quicken, or the grip of your hands on my hips as you drew me closer.
I scoot myself onto the bed. The cold sheets rub against me as I move, making my nipples harden against the thin material covering them, and goose bumps rise on bare skin that isn’t covered by the lingerie. I wish you were here to warm the bed with me, but tonight I’ll have to make do without you. I cup my breasts the way you would, but it doesn’t feel quite right when you’re not the one doing it. Instead, I run the tips of my fingers around the edge of my breasts, closing my eyes to concentrate on the sensation.
My desire for you is especially strong tonight. I know because as my eyes remain closed, my hands no longer feel like they belong to me – every touch feels like yours. So when I finally feel fingers pinching my nipples I arch into the touch, moaning as I do. The fingers twist hard, and my voice becomes a whimper as the sensation zaps towards the apex of my thighs, and my thighs clench together once again, though the action does nothing to stop my pussy from getting even wetter.
Those expert fingers quickly trace themselves down the length of my body. My nipples protest, my entire body greedy for your form of loving. I feel your touch next on the insides of my thighs as they part for you, though my muscles continue to tense every time fingertips dance on sensitive skin. My breaths get deeper in anticipation, and I start to release soft sighs as those fingers get even closer to where I need them the most.
Damp lace. The illusion is broken when my fingers brush against the crotch of my lingerie, and I feel the rush of need take me as I quickly push aside the material and press the palm of my hand against bursa escort bayan my drenched pussy, though the pressure only helps slightly. Frustrated, I rotate my palm in circles, revelling in how slick I’ve become. If you were here you’d take delight in finding me so wet for you, would tease me to the edge of oblivion just to demonstrate your power, but you’re not. You’re not, and tonight I get to avenge myself, my starving body, by rebelling against you, by taking what I want instead of letting you tease me into it.
Yet, even when you’re not here you still find a way to fight against me. The mere thought of you has made me so wet I can’t find the friction I need. Crazed, my fingers move to reveal my clitoris, and my right hand angrily taps against it. The result is slightly painful, the degree of my arousal making my traitor of a body ridiculously sensitive, but it is also the pleasure I’ve been looking for. I cry out your name into the space of the empty room, and flip myself onto my stomach.
Fingers interlaced, head downwards, butt raised. Our favorite position. I loved yielding to you – only you – and you loved the sight it offered you. Tonight, however, my hands aren’t clasped together. My left hand reaches behind, and I thrust two fingers into myself, hard and fast. It’s not enough, and I groan as I add another finger. Three feels better, fills me up even more. My right moves under me to help, and starts a continuous tapping of my clit, making me release a sharp cry with every contact.
I’m close. I’m so close to the peak, so close and yet… I need you. I always have.
I hear your laughter as you watch the predicament I’ve landed in. It’s different from your light-hearted chuckle. Your voice is deeper, rougher. It’s the laugh that lets me know you’re close as well, and that knowledge pushes me just one step closer.
“Is this what you need?” The girth of your cock filling me, the sound of heavy panting, the rough slap of my skin against yours. I can only in moan in answer as I push myself back towards you, urging you to continue pounding into me.
Another hoarse laughter as you demonstrate your frustrating control and manage to stop your movements, your hands tight against my hips to make sure I don’t move escort bursa as well. The only consolation is the groan that follows your laughter as I clench my pussy, as if to coax you into releasing your seed inside me. We spend the next minute in silence, each catching our breaths as you fight not to cum, and I anticipate the loss of your control.
I know you’ve won the battle when I feel your body lean over mine, feel your lips lightly caress the shell of my ear. Your breathing is harsh, and I shiver every time I feel the rush of air against my skin.
“Beg.” The one word that causes my muscles to tighten impossibly around you, and I hear you draw in another breath as you stifle your groan and wait for me to submit.
“Please…” My strangled whimper is all you need to hear and you shift your hands to cover my breasts as you start to move again. Your chest is close to my back and the heat that surrounds us is unbearable, sweat dripping down the both of us even though the room is air-conditioned. We both know the position you’re in is a little uncomfortable, but it doesn’t seem to matter when we’re both so close to losing ourselves.
The edges of my vision begin to darken as our voices get louder. I hear every little sound you make, and the groans and cries you release as your hard pounding loses its rhythm and you start driving mindlessly into me are met with my own cries.
I know you’re going to cum just right before you do. You thrust one last time into me and I feel you stiffen, feel the rush of air beside my ear as you growl your satisfaction, and my body reacts the way it always does. I shatter with pleasure, your name escaping the warmth of my mouth to echo in the room as my pussy clenches over and over again, milking your cock even after all your sperm has been shot into me. I feel your cock continue to throb in me, and it makes me feel like I’m the sexiest woman on earth.
I let out a contented sigh as I remove my fingers from my pussy and shift onto my back once again. I bring my left hand up to my lips and slowly lick the evidence of my shameful need away. The sheets are soaked with my juice; tonight I don’t get to see globs of your cum marking the bed as your territory, won’t get to scoop it up and rub it into my skin. Lazily, I remove the useless thong, leaving just the bustier on. You always admired how my breasts looked in it as my chest moved up and down while we recovered. I feel tears prick at my eyes as I remember just how badly I miss you.
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