Missing You 44

At night I curl up in our bed all alone. Even though I know you'll be home with me soon, I can't help but allow myself to wallow in self-pity for a moment. Cuddling with your pillow and blanket is a very poor substitute for your body. I don't sleep well when you're not home. I wake up at least once a night unconsciously seeking you out in the dark.

The moments before attempting to fall asleep are simply awful. My body quietly yearns for yours. In the quiet, I attempt to comfort myself with touches of my own fingers and memories of you drifting through my mind.

My fingers trace around the swell of my breasts, gently climbing up to the peaks of my sensitive nipples. I close my fingers around them, circling with my thumbs, gently tugging, sometimes just teasing them until the heat growing between my thighs can no longer be ignored. Keeping my left hand in place, I slow the assault on my nipples and trail my right hand down... down... down.

My poor, aching clit is demanding attention, and I all too willingly give it. I slip my fingers into my wet pussy and drag the moisture up to where I need it. My index finger slides across the smooth surface of my swollen bud. Oh, there! Right there! That's where it feels best. I make myself slow down and savor the sensation. I don't want it to end too quickly. I vary my rhythm to build myself up only to make myself wait.

Sometimes if I feel I'm getting too close but I don't quite want to stop yet, I'll slip my fingers inside of my cunt and slowly fuck myself until the throbbing in my clit subsides and its "safe" to stroke it again. I keep this up for quite some time. When I feel that I've had enough and I'm ready, I'll find that one sweet spot on my clit and firmly stroke it with my finger. I don't let up. I don't slow down. I keep the pace and let the sensation catch up with me. On occasion I'll slide the fingers of my left hand into my pussy and finger fuck myself at the same time.

It doesn't take long before holding back is an impossibility and I let myself go. My chest and legs arch off of the bed, my ass digs down harder into the mattress. My mouth helplessly hangs open and I try to control my cries. My breath comes out in shallow gasps.

I said that part was awful. And while my body contorts in orgasm, you'd think it was wonderful. However, it just seems so...hollow. It's awful because you're not with me. I've made myself cum without your help before, but you've still been there for it. Now, I'm completely alone.

I miss you the most in those empty post-orgasmic moments. I can't replace the weight of your body as you stretch yourself out on top of me, or the feel of your waist under my straddled thighs. I can't mimic the feel of your lips dancing with mine or your tongue caressing me. There is only a blank ceiling over my head where your hungry expression should be.

My fingers should be exploring your body, not my own. I miss the feel of your strong hands tenderly touching my breasts one minute, then firmly gripping my ass the next. My fingers are no match for your firm cock filling me over and over again. Your grunts and moans in my ears let me know I'm pleasing you the way I feel I should.

When I cum and my body arches I shouldn't feel open air. I should feel your arms wrapped around me and hear you crooning the words, "Good girl." I should feel my pussy tightening around your aching dick, not my fingers. My post coital moments should be spent holding you, welcoming you into my body, encouraging you to join me in the afterglow. I should be anticipating the build-up as you take yourself closer and closer to right where I want you. I want to feel you shudder and spasm, gasping for breath and crying out in agonizing bliss.

Instead of tasting my juices off of my finger tips, I want the taste of our mingled sex in my mouth. I enjoy orally cleaning your cock after we're done. The funny noises you make and the way your body quakes lets me know how much you enjoy it, too. We should be holding each other, kissing, caressing, basking in each other. But instead I lay here alone, feeling empty. Waiting for the moment your pillow will become just another piece of bedding and is no longer my nightly bed mate.