I sit here, trying to get my thoughts straight and in order, what I still need to do, what is ready to go, and yet they keep rolling back to you, ON you, OVER you, me running my tongue up and down ... NO, I must get everything straightened out, I MUST. I can't keep living with my head in the clouds, I have so many things I need to do before the end. Taking a breath, I let my mind wander for a bit, about you, knowing I will never truly have you...
* ... I can't help but think about you, I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it. Simply thinking of you makes me so wet, the thought of running my tongue down your neck, over your chest, around each of your nipples, down your body ... to your delicious middle. Sliding my tongue over you, up you, around and round; sucking you into my mouth. Feeling your body tremble as I suck deep and hard. I want to feel you grip my head, pulling me where you want me by my hair. I want to feel your body tremble as I run my nails up and down your thighs. Feel your hand tighten in my hair, pulling me deeper against you; hear you groan as I suck you deeper into my mouth. I feel your soft skin against my tongue as my tongue slides up and down your delicious shaft over and over... *
Shaking my head, I clear the thoughts of wondering what might have been had I actually been able to be with you. The pleasure, the pain, all of it; yet things never seem to go the way I want them to go. I still to this day, crave having you, around me, on me, in me; falling asleep exhausted on your chest finally TRULY satisfied. I think that's something you actually might have been able to do, I think you truly would have been able to make me orgasm on your own, but that is something I will never know now. As I will never see how beautiful you really are, will never be able to watch my hands running over your body, will never be able to see your magnificent cock dance as I run my fingers over your stomach or run my nails up and down your legs or abdomen; will never see your sac tighten as I suck you closer and closer to orgasm. Those are things that I would have loved to be able to see, knowing you enjoyed it, seeing you enjoying it.
As I sit here and think of you, think of what might have been, my phone goes off, and it's you; you are actually in the city and want me to come out to meet you. I ignore the message at first, but you, send another, and another, and another. I finally answer you, telling you, I can't, that I don't have the fuel. You quickly respond you will cover it, you want to see me. Sighing, I agree, even though I know it's a bad idea, I haven't told you the news I received last week; I gather my things and head out the door.
I make the trip into the city, and to the hotel you said in the message, pulling up outside, the valet walks around, opens my door, and I reach over and grab my bag. Walking inside, I give the desk clerk your name, and he asks my name, then tells me the room, hands me a key and motions to the elevators. I look at him and ask where the stairs are, I do not go into elevators unless absolutely necessary; he looks at me funny and says "go passed the elevators on the right." I turn and walk to the stairs, open the door and head up three flights of stairs.