First, her face.
The most fine, pale skin you can imagine. Not quite translucent, but you can see the veins playing along the insides of her forearms, and trace them all the way back to her heart. Huge eyes; some might say too big, but so very reflective. I swear I can see my soul in those eyes sometimes. Blue, but dark. Not sky blue or gumboot blue. Not even grey or forgetmenot blue. Just inbetween.
Your jaw is subtle. I know that sounds odd, but that is perhaps the only way I can describe it. It isn't jutting, nor weak. It makes the perfect frame for your mouth; not really very full lips, which is odd again. I normally like full lips on a woman, but yours aren't.
Ironic dimples at the corner, and while they aren't full they are the most delectable shape. I wanted to kiss them the second I saw them.
The most cute nose I have ever seen. Most people don't think a nose can be attractive, let alone sexy, but I think yours is. Almost nonexistent eyebrows, but that's just because your hair is so pale that you can't see them. I think you use peroxide, but I'm not game to ask.
Long, flowing pale blonde hair. Almost the longest I have ever seen. I love long hair on a girl; just warms the cockles of my heart. It waves just slightly, and completes the shape of your face; a heart. I told you her jaw was subtle; I suppose her entire face is, really. And I kind of hope you never read this, because I'm making you sound unattractive, but your face is completely and utterly adorable, beautiful in the most unconventional way.
I can close my eyes, drown everything else out, and I can hear your voice. Irish, high pitched. Not shrill, by any means; okay, maybe sometimes. Dreamy; I find myself getting lost in your words instead of actually listening, which usually leads to the shrill part.
If I had to describe your body, I would use the word slight, I think. You're so small, you make me look a bit bigger. And you never impose yourself on anyone. Your beauty is such that women with a fuller figure will always be envious. Ethereal. You are like a spirit, blown down the wind, pale as moonlight. Sometimes, if you wear nothing, you look like something out of a black and white film.
I can picture you, walking down a sidewalk in late summer. You've got your white trash shirt on, and a rockerslut skirt- you know the one I mean. You look so sexy; a naughty schoolgirl. You turn, and you beckon me into an alley. You push me hard against a wall; your lips collide with mine. I lose myself, as you force your tongue into my mouth. You moan into me, as you feel my hands against your thighs, pulling you closer.
I can think of that night. You know the one; I seduced you for once, and you let me get away with thinking that I was in control.
You let me pull your leggings off, and I kissed along the expanse of your beautiful flawless skin, softer along the inside of your thigh.
I can still taste you, feel the sweet tang of your flavour against my tongue. That is the only time I'm actually in control of you, and I relish it. However, while I'm in control, I still can't control myself.
I run my tongue around the edges of you, bringing you to the boil. You spread your legs for me, willingly, wonderfully.
I cup you softly, feeling your mound in my hands; letting your moistness collect. I'm kissing you, and then I pull away, looking straight into your eyes, teasing you with my intent. I place your hands on my head, and move down your body slowly. I replace my hand with my mouth, and I close it on you.
You arch your back. I am careful, making sure to explore first, feeling your shape, leaving your nub and your slit for now. I then begin to tease you, running my tongue around your clit, making sure not to touch.
I move lower, to your slit. You taste so good, I have to force myself to slow down. I push myself into you slightly, not exerting myself. I have a very long tongue; you know that.
I move within you deeper now, dipping inside, before moving upwards, stroking the hood of your nub at the apex. You begin to writhe; you didn't like receiving until you met me.
I love the daylight. I can see your face contort, alternating between cries and biting your lips. I move faster; I know you're close.
I probe deeper and faster, still flicking upwards. You buck your hips; you know what's coming.
I take your clit between my lips, and flick my tongue over it- hard. You once told me this was too intense, but then you begged me to do it again, only at the end. You scream, and your thighs lock me in place. I savour you, drinking you in, filling myself with you- and, by the way, I love the fact that you have some hair down there. It just makes me want you more.
You're far away now. But I can still picture you in my mind, still feel you next to me, remember the softness of your skin, the taste of your lips on mine.
I wish you were here.