Your stare makes me burn inside. My desire increasing by the minute and my want growing bigger as is my wetness. Yes, I am wet, and it’s just for you, my primal instincts at it’s sharpest making me anticipate the sweet release that is about to come.

I can already feel your fingers, their playful teasing feeding my lust, tentatively touching, caressing, flicking softly over the center of pleasure itself, but I want more, I beg for more. I feel the fingers sliding softly downward, making just the right amount of pressure in a whole new place, and I yell out and mumble incoherent words, you stop but I want you to keep going so I buckle my hips a bit as if to give you motivation, yet your fingers stay still, I grow impatient and mutter under my breath words that tell you to keep going hoping you hear them and carry on with your journey of my body.

Then unexpectedly those fingers move, now not so gentle, rough and firm, and I can feel them buried deep inside of me, my wetness dripping and my heat surrounding them while they do what has now become a slow dance of constant movements driving me to the edge.

A curious thumb moves up, clumsily yet effectively hitting the spot that makes my whole body shake while the other fingers are now moving faster, harder producing friction, friction that is making me scream and ask you not to stop, pleading for you to keep going.

Sweat runs down your neck and with lazy eyes I follow a drop that goes down slowly and try to resist the urge to run my tongue over it, containing myself from tasting the salty invigorating product of your activities, but before I know it you run your tongue over the soft skin of my neck making me moan softly in your ear, which seems to give you a newfound energy that shows in the still moving hand.

I’m so close trying to hold it all in but being unable to, so I explode yelling out in ecstasy, riding your hand wave by wave, feeling it still move until I lay still in the bed, totally satisfied, flushed face, closed eyes.

I open them slowly and feel the tired muscles of my arm constrict as I move it, I inspect my hand to find my fingers soaked with my own juices. I look around but you’re nowhere to be found, I’m alone in my room doing what I’ve done so many times now, thinking of you, thinking about how good it feels to be with you. Alone in my room wishing you were here.