Three Days

She was lying in bed, bare skin kissed lightly, teasingly by the soft breeze of the ceiling fan above her. She stared unfocused at the oscillating fins of the fan. Her thoughts drifting. Three days... THREE DAYS... There had been innumerable days.... weeks of barely tolerable waiting...and now it was only THREE DAYS.

She would finally be able to allow REAL eyes to fall upon HER. To gaze upon her. The miracle that had so totally captivated her body mind and soul. Two such souls divided by the merciless miles. But those miles would be traversed. To unite the pair at last.

But was even three days too unbearable to wait. The giddy tingling excitement of it all was overwhelming. It was so easy to succumb to the perfect fantasies surrounding that undying love. She could just picture her. Picture the first moment where two eyes fix upon two eyes.

It was enough to drive one wild. The excitement, the anticipation, the rush...

She thought about her as she gently picked up a single solitary stocking of soft diaphanous black nylon, and carefully pushed her fingers into it, watching as the slender digits spread that delicate material open. Licking her lips as her body slowly ignited at the rush of thoughts. She allowed herself a soft satisfied smirk as the material that would be the "ankle" of the garment spread across the back of her hand and admired the intricate stenciling of the name of her miracle... appeared as the stocking was smoothed and tugged up her arm.

Parting endless slender silken stems wide, that nylon clad hand was slowly traced up supple thighs. Breathing quickly shortened and sharpened. Softly gasping once more at the thought.... three...days.

Fingers drifted upwards to brush against soft velvet petals already moistened and swollen, eager for the touch of her miracle. Fingers sheathed in the flimsiest and oh most sensual of fabrics teased that waiting sex. Rolling over those tender folds, kneading them as spine arched off the bed and and hair was tossed back amongst the pillows. Long lashed lids and lower lip both fluttering weakly as she imagined her love tenderly tormenting that sweet velvet sheathe.

Those fingers ran up along that wet slit, tips just barely pushed between. She bit down upon her bottom lip to attempt to stifle all manner of eager honey drizzled sounds of ache, lust and pleasure. As she slowly pushed into that soft sex, the heat saturating every fiber of her being. Body of lush curves beginning to undulate, and hips beginning to rock, buck to those fingers and writhe in wanton lustful abandon.

The simple movement of her wrist started a rhythm, a soft pulsation of fingers deftly diving into that heat. Seeking out all those most sensitive of triggers within her, her thumb rolling over the little pearl nestled above those folds.

She moaned loud, eyes widen and alight as she can FEEL her love here with her, watching her, soaking her in. Those thighs parted further as hips wriggle and lift to the thrusting of those fingers. Those formerly captivated sounds now pouring from her, spilling from her throat and issuing past lush lips.

She slowly pulled her fingers free from the blazing depths of her sex, leaving behind that sheer stocking. She begins to slowly push the black nylon in between her folds, filling herself with the stocking. Gasping whimpers of pleasure echoing from her as delightful shudders caress and tease her frame. Squeals of delight intermingle with moans of ecstasy as she lies there simply quivering with excitement.

She takes that aching pearl between forefinger and thumb and begins to tease and torment it, her hips jumping. Crying out her joy. Her own self pleasure effectively extinguishing the tormenting and intolerable wait. The completely tangible ACHE of needing her miracle in her arms.

These thoughts drove her swiftly over the edge. Her body tensed up taut briefly, eyes lost in decadent delirium as she dissolved into a writhing creature of delicious spine-tingling convulsions, her hips leaping to her every roll and teasing prod of that little pearl.

Squealing and panting a soft sheen of sweat glistening upon her features, she knew that even these last hours of displacement from her heart, her love.... would not best her. Time could not restrain the force of their love. As she calmed, her body quivering delightfully, she was content that soon her miracle would be in her arms. That she would be safe and whole.

She slowly pulled the soft sheer stocking from the heated confines of her core and contentedly lapped at the delicate material coaxing the sweetness of her honey from its soft weave. Eyes refocus, and open again to those rhythmically spinning fan blades. And she simply purrs to herself, turning onto one side clutching the stocking and drifting peacefully into soft slumber...