On The Things I Miss

On The Things I Miss

I miss touching her bare skin for the very first time.
I miss the first kiss.
The first time you taste her unique, indescribable taste.
And she tastes yours.
A taste that becomes imprinted in your brain.
Will I like the way she tastes? Love it? Crave it?

Only one way to find out.
I miss finding out.

The same way I’d miss never trying new flavors of ice cream, I guess.
Or never hearing a new song.
Or seeing a new film.

I miss the anticipation.
I miss wanting her and knowing she wants me.
Imagining what kind of a lover she is.
Quiet? Loud? Playful? Scary?

Does she fuck or make love?
Does she even care what you call it?

I miss being polite on the outside while thinking dirty thoughts inside.
I miss finding out she’s as sweet as she looks.
I miss getting to know her better and finding out she’s also very naughty.
I miss feeling special enough to be trusted with her secret.

I miss seeing her naked for the first time.
Cupping her breasts.
Feeling their weight in my hands.
Running my fingertips over her nipples.
Feeling them harden.
Nibbling on them and running my tongue over them.
Sucking them as my hand slides down over her stomach in one fluid movement, not stoping until it rests on her sweet wet gorgeous pussy.
I miss sliding my hands around to her ass.
Pulling her toward me.
I miss showing her how hard she gets me.
Standing proudly in front of her as she gets her first look at my rock hard dick.
I miss the first time she touches my cock.
Stares at it, then strokes it while staring up at me.
Licks it gently, then slides it in her mouth.

I miss the time a new lover asked if she could suck me.
Like I’d say no, or something. ☺

I miss going down on my college girlfriend and making her cum in a matter of seconds.

I miss realizing how good I was at fucking, licking, sucking.
I miss reconfirming it with each new lover.
“Oh. Oh shit. Oh, yes.”
Her body moving .
Her eyes rolling back.
Her breath heavy.
The breathing becoming moaning. The moaning becoming screaming.
The feeling that I was giving her the greatest gift in the world.
Pure pleasure.
Her nails digging into my back.
(That really hurts, by the way. But I digress.)

I miss pulling a lover’s panties down after making out, just before we got into bed, and feeling how absolutely soaking wet they were.

I miss how surprised she seemed after we’d fucked when I slid down between her legs and started licking her. It was like she’d never been with a guy who liked to give oral. She tasted so delicious.

She came so loudly.

I’m not sad.
I’m not bitter.
And I’m not trying to recreate the past.

I have a lot of good things now that I didn’t have then.

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss those things so very, very much.
And that I hope to enjoy them again someday.