So I Wait

She waits. Wants to wait for him. He is in her now, under her skin, in her bloodstream, the captor of her heart and soul. The true reason she lives and breathes. She feels momentary guilt that her life is focused on her love for him, others just there to take care of, nurture, surround her with their presence. They are merely the daily realities of her life the string that connects her true realities together. I love them all she thinks, but i live for him. He is in her, not just beside her, and the life that she has chosen. So she waits.

Everything she does is for him. She realizes that and does not dwell on it anymore. Her happiest moments are in some way connected to him. Even when he is not with her, her thoughts are of him and what he would want of her or for her. This makes her happy and content in her life. Gives her the direction she needs, the strong hand she needs. Always feeling different and disconnected, now her mind is focused, soul is content, her heart sings and her body is satisfied.

She sits contemplating these things as the razor slides slowly up her leg, gathering the foam. She watches closely, making sure that her skin is smooth, for him. Her daily ritual, traveling farther, tickling the inside of her knee, her thigh. Her mind wanders, feels the heat of his fingers there, the feel of his hands on her smooth skin. She giggles, is this more for him, or for me? Her fingers follow the trail of disappearing foam, feeling the smoothness, lost in the sensation. Taking more of the thick foam in her hand, she smoothes it over her mound. Switching position and raising her knee higher for access, starts to slowly, so slowly, run the razor over herself, gently over her lips and the sensitive skin there. Watching the foam part and revealing the soft skin beneath. Sending shivers through her she watches and feels his breath there, feels his tongue gently run up and between her lips. Fingers wandering she can't help but touch and explore, thinking of him and anticipation building. Working over her clit and around, smoothing the skin, running one finger over her clit and under. Should i wait? Intense feeling building, that warm, heavy, full feeling running through her pussy.

My pussy, his pussy. A word i would never have used before him. A part of my body that had needs and wants that i could never admit to. Ashamed of. Now so open and wanting and needy. A sweet pussy when asleep and in wait. Then becoming with his hands, those wonderful hands, so very awake and needy. Turning from purring kitten into a spitting, screaming wildcat, a cunt. Only you can take care of me, of her then. Only you can satisfy the needs that run through me and consume me.

Suds run from her loofa down her arm and she slowly starts to lather her body. Running the bubbles around her neck, down her shoulders, down her arms. Enjoying the feeling of the scratchy loofa, warm water and soap. Mind wandering through the sensations. Something new, always feeling, not just rushing through life anymore. Something wonderful he has taught her.

Acceptance of herself and her needs. Lovely thought she keeps coming back to. In the past, could never ask for things, never accept that she had needs, always pushed them to the side. Lovely to enjoy life and not feel guilty. Acceptance by him of her needs. What freedom there is in that. No need to fear, or hide. Just the knowledge that she could sink into her feelings and the utter trust she has in his control and care and love of her.

Sensations from the water and bubbles float down her body, over and past her breasts, like his fingers gliding over her nipples and down to her already aroused clit. Washing over and teasing. She looks at her nipples and watches, feels them hardening, feeling the tightness. She takes her nipples with her fingers and gently squeezes, shooting sensations through her, catching her breath. Fingers pressing harder and the tugging sensation turns sharper, nerves on edge and sending waves of sensation to her pussy. She can feel the wetness release downward in her pelvis, can feel it gathering behind the lips of her pussy. Twisting and pressing her fingers together even tighter, she can feel a release of more fluids and her pussy opens, trickling the wetness over her lips and down her thighs.

Pain. Such a wonderful prelude to pleasure. Something else he knows so well, and knows about her. It is not only the pain, it is also the control that she knows she needs and wants. Running her hands with flat palms over her stomach, over her hips and back to cup her buttocks. So wet and soft. She loves his hands on her ass. Loves the feelings that go through her when he bites, licks and kisses her there. She loves when he is gentle and erotic but she also loves when he is hard and demanding. It is what she needs and he knows it. The feelings she receives from him when his hands, or whips caress her. So funny, even when he is hard and demanding, he is always gentle. Every touch is in itself an entire experience to savor. She waits for his hand or whip to strike. It is all felt in slow motion. The contact, the feeling she gets of his control just flowing through her, then the instant of pain, and the immediate warmth and tingling sensation that shoots right into her pussy. The first couple times she is very aware of everything, every sound, and then her focus changes. Then it is just feeling and the incredible need for more and then the need for him to touch her, to be inside her. But she knows she must wait.

Fingers traveling between and down the crack of her ass. The water makes it so easy and smooth to travel. Other hand moving to her belly and slowly down running fingers between her lips and fingers meeting. Feelings becoming more intense, more need. She plunges two fingers inside her, has to have something inside her. Her need for him building, her thoughts of him becoming more intense. A flash of his eyes in her mind and she is moaning, her fingers twisting, trying so hard to touch where he touches, to feel the same. But it is never the same. Her thumb reaches and rubs on her clit, small circles, pressing soft and then pushing, very hard down trying to meet the fingers that are inside her.

She leans against the shower door, breasts pressed to the cold glass, more sensations. Fingers twisting and moving and she can feel her orgasm building inside her, feel the tightness, the wetness from the water and her own juices flowing down her fingers. She hears his voice tell her that she is his whore, his slut, his bitch, his love. Her pussy lunges forward against her fingers, moans of pleasure fill the air and her need has overwhelmed her. She thinks, soon, soon it will be his hands, his fingers, his mouth, his tongue that will give me more pleasure than i could ever feel at this moment. She stops and pulls her fingers from the warm, soft wetness, her pussy walls grabbing for them. He is her heart, he owns her mind, body and soul. He has asked this of her so she will wait.