I was thinking about you, what you said about me being a tease. I know I can't be there with you tonight. I wanted to let you know how much I desire you. This is what I came up with...
Print this out, have a nice hot bath, light some candles turn out the lights and read this in bed (this is going to be fun).
(Okay, this is where the pretend fantasy part starts, start imagining now)
It's a hot summer evening, it's twilight you can see the last fading traces of light on the horizon from the window beside your bed. It's getting late, "where is he?" You wonder as you take off your shirt and bra opting for a lacy cool tank top and your favorite bed time shorts. Naked looking down at your breasts you realize how good they look and think you understand why all men obsess over them. You cup your breasts with both hands squeezing them, enjoying the warmth coming from your own hands, you drag your fingers up to your nipples, the memory of him grasping your body with your nipple under his tongue flashes into your mind. You shudder and realize how much you yearn to make love to him once more. But you're not wearing the tank top for him, no of course not; you're wearing it because it's far too hot in your apartment. You smile to yourself half laughing at the little moment you just had to yourself and plop down in front of the TV to watch a movie before he arrives.
Just as you get comfortable you hear his familiar knock. But it can't be him, how did he get into the building. Ah yes, the spare key you cut for him a month ago when you though he'd be coming by more often. Still a little surprised you get up and walk slowly to the door. You notice how the breeze has turned cold against smooth your nearly naked legs. You open the door. There he is just standing there like a fool with that cute but guilty looking smile, he knows you know he's late.