I knew when you told me you were heading out for a few days I'd miss you. I figured I'd entertain myself with chatting, writing, tormenting those friends of ours, but I didn't. My heart just wasn't in it. It went south with you. You were going south weren't you? I am so bad with directions.
So, I came here to write you a letter, hoping to distract myself enough to get something accomplished today, but now I find myself wondering what you are doing. I can see your smile and the laughter in your eyes. I can feel your breath brushing against my neck as I stand next to you. Your fingers slowly trace the shape of my collarbone. Do you know what you do to me? Do you feel the same rush of excitement that I do? Do you feel the tingle?
You often tell me I make you feel sexy. You make me feel that way. I feel beautiful when you talk to me, when you call me yours and when you tell me I am special. My face grows warm, it turns pink, and my eyes sparkle with joy.
Have you any idea how many times I've looked at your picture and used it to guide my hands across my skin, the way I know you would if you were here with me? Can you feel the dip where my collarbones meet? Do you see my chest rise and fall as my fingers skate between the cleavage of my breasts?
My nipples harden with the thought of your hands brushing across them. I can feel the sharp dragging of your teeth against the sweet pearl as my hands push into your hair and hold you closer to me. I can feel the warmth of your mouth and the moisture of your tongue scrapping against my areola. The ridges are growing more bumpy and the bead is hard and aching for your mouth to devour it.
I can feel your nose nuzzle by breasts, a parting touch before your tongue glides down my stomach. My fingers are your mouth. I arch my back, my eyes close. I feel you lick a path of unholy delight across my stomach and then into my belly button. Your trace the scar that signifies the birth of two of my children. You kiss it and then stop.
My breath is coming faster, my love. My eyes are still closed and I still picture you with me. The bed sagging from our bodies moving and shifting so that we are both comfortable. Then I feel the brush of your lips across the soft curls of my sex. My fingers tease the hairs, just like your teeth would. I tug on them, and then feel the moisture that has eased free. I run it in circles with my finger and thumb. Only then do I bring the satin of my pussy to my tongue. I taste it and think of your cock covered in my juice.
I feel the tingle of my pussy vibrate through me. I moan and shiver. My fingers move back, just like yours would if I had you between my legs. Yes, my love. I see you there with me. I see your eyes gazing into mine and then I watch you bury your lips, nose, face into the slick folds of my pussy.
Oh my, love. I did not waste time on one finger, but used three, hoping to further enhance my pleasure by filling my pussy with skin as welcoming as your cock. No toy. No plastic wand of sin. Just warm flesh, just like your shaft sliding in and out of me. Faster, I move. Harder, I plunge. I arch my back, lift my hips and drag my nails across the sides of my pussy.
Soon I am thrashing and bucking against my hand; I feel the edge of release come over me and fall. I scream out your name and beg you to fuck me. You don't stop and soon you are twisting and pulling on my clit.
My fingers are working faster. I force my body to continue climbing a cliff of unspeakable heights. Lights flash behind my lids and darkness descends as your name falls from my lips like a cascading waterfall.
When I awake, my body is numb. Time has moved, but in my heart you have not left me. You are still here and I'm still in your arms. I let my mind lock your image inside and I hear you whisper how precious I am to you; I answer you back, that you are just as precious.
My lover, I go now and leave you this letter. No matter what path life takes us on, know that the spark you give me, makes the fires in my soul, burn with passion.