I've been insatiably horny tonight, and unable to sleep so I started thinking, fantasizing about what it could be like to be with you... I wonder how it would feel the first time you slide your hand up my skirt, toward the pulsing heat between my legs until you feel how soaked my panties are. When you pull them aside and feel the delicate, sensitive folds of me against your fingertips how you might memorize the silky texture, mapping my most intimate parts, committing the topography of my body to your memory, in case you never get to touch me again.
When you sink your fingers into me, when you feel how tight I am, how smooth and slick my canal is, the intense heat feeling simultaneously dangerous to the touch and warm, welcoming, accommodating to your invasion. When you feel me grab your shoulders and gently rest my head in your neck while my body surrenders completely at your mercy.
I try to imagine what thoughts would run through your head when you bring me to my peak and feel my walls convulse and squeeze your fingers mercilessly, when you feel your cock jump as you imagine what it would feel like in place of them, buried deep inside of my molten silk, all the way to the hilt. I imagine you sucking your fingers clean and taking it all in; my scent, my taste, and understanding the weight of me giving myself to you in this way, allowing you access to my body. I wonder if you'd even bother waiting for me to allow you access...
I wonder if when you're reaching under my top, into the cups of my bra, and groping my achingly full breasts for the first time, if they'll feel how you've imagined; warm, soft, but firm and yielding to your touch— yielding like the rest of my body, yielding to you like my inhibitions and my will have. The spongy softness of my swollen mammary tissue tempting you to squeeze for all I'm worth, regardless of the fact that doing so will surely cause me to leak my precious milk. I wonder how the hard little nubs of my nipples will feel against your palms, between your finger tips, and between your lips. I wonder how your tongue will feel, teasing them and coaxing the sweet milk from me should you decide to drink from me.
I wonder what I'll sound like to you, when my eyes are shut and I'm completely lost to the sensations of your touch, the world fading away around me—distant, my surroundings gone, lost in the fog, and my thoughts completely tethered to my senses. When I sing for you in a way you've never heard, intimate and vulnerable, if it'll be as affecting to you; my breathy sighs, my feminine whines, my desperate whimpers and coos, my barely whispered, half-uttered, needful words of encouragement, expressions of want, and sharp exclamations of pleasure under your ministrations, I wonder if I'll sound as beautiful to you then as I do when I sing for an audience.
