You asked me what lustful thoughts I was having, this morning. As I lay in my bed, naked and daydreaming of strong hands and a willing tongue. I was thinking how heavy my limbs felt, how warm and weighted and rested. I was thinking how my body pillow felt trapped between my knees, soft in my embrace, nestled between my breasts. How the cotton pillowcase felt cool on my bare skin, despite the sultry heat that has seemed to ever present this summer. How the soft whine of the lone mosquito high in the corner of the room seemed to rise and fall with the even softer whir of the fan by my side.
But most of all, I was thinking of you. And what you would smell like in the morning, fresh from the shower, the scent of your favourite cologne strong and musky, already mixing with your skin to become your signature aroma. Your dress shirt hanging open over black slacks, the button done up but the belt unbuckled, hanging open at your waist. I was thinking of you running your hand over your chin, tasting the night's worth of five o'clock shadow, liking the way the prickles feel on your fingertips, deciding not to shave today. Each rub of your jawline and you are reminded of your status, of your masculinity, of your cock, and how much the smooth skin of your nethers contrasts with the steely growth on your cheeks.
I was thinking of you coming from the bathroom and entering the room, your hands playing with your buttons, but not doing them up. Of you watching me waking up in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. I am naked. I am stirring. And you feel the length in your freshly pressed slacks swell as you watch me clutch at the body pillow between my legs and grind against it lightly in my waking moments. You are still watching me as I open my eyes. That unedited expression causing me to blush, smiling as I duck my head into yet another pillow, a spill of curls tumbling as I move my head.
Your face is an open book of your desires. I feel like a rack of lamb, you a hungry wolf, and I revel in it. Waking up to such desire. I roll to my hands and knees, facing away from you. Pushing pillows, quilt, sheets to the floor, baring the bed so it's just me and my naked skin on the crimson red cotton. Behind me you watch as linen hits the polished floor. Watching as I spread my knees just a little. I am thinking about how much I want you inside me as I arch my back, stretching like a cat, before throwing you a look over my shoulder, my curls bouncing around my face as you catch my wink. I sink forwards, my breasts pressing against the bed, my weight supported by my shoulders as I reach around behind me and run my hands up the back of my thighs, over my arse, spreading myself open for you.
I hear you groan behind me, the sound of your belt leaving its loops around your waist makes the breath catch in my throat. I am so wet for you. So open, so wanting. I am trembling as I feel the weight of you move to the bed. The sound of your zip closely following. I don't resist as you grab my wrists and tie them roughly with the thick leather strap of your belt. Holding the end of the strap like reins. I feel your heat, swollen and throbbing pressing against my flesh as you press your hips into mine.
"Fuck."
I am thinking of how I love your voice when you're hot. When you're aroused to the point of mindlessness. It's so husky it almost cracks as you murmur your approval of my smooth skin, one hand holding the strap tight pulling my arms towards you, the other rubbing the tip of your cock against my labia, along my slit. Dipping ever so briefly into the wetness of my cunt. And suddenly you are inside me, balls deep. the entire length of you sunk in one violent thrust, the breath exploding from my mouth as you bottom out. I can feel the fabric of your pants under your balls, your zipper scratching at my sensitive skin, as the hot tip of your cock presses against my cervix, stretching me from the inside out. I groan as I struggle to accommodate you inside me.
The hand on your cock, now grabbing at my arse, squeezing the flesh, leaving bruises, and for a heartbeat, two, three, you wait, pressing forwards with your cock, but not moving. Your hand on the strap pulling hard as you start to fuck me, deep and hard, using me, using this little slut in front of you. Fucking me as hard and as deep as you need. I feel stretched everywhere, my shoulders, my forearms, my back, my hamstrings, my cunt... my hands balled into fists as you use my arms as leverage to impale yourself inside me, over and over. The hand on my hip gripping at my flesh, pulling me open so that I feel the wet splash of your spit as it hits my crack and runs down to my arse. Your thumb quickly following as you first press on the tight opening and then push wholly inside, not giving me time to adjust before you are pressing deep inside my arse.
Your thumb pressing against your cock as your fuck me, the thin membrane the only thing between the two parts of you.
