Your words are a powerful expression of sensuality. They caress my intellect and stroke my spirit. They make my mind take erotic turns, slips and slides. They somersault off of your lips and dive into my own mouth. I can see them in my mind and conjure all that you mean to say adding my own twist of absurdity... Your mind excites me and your words make me melt.
Every word on the screen embraces me. I see them in my mind's eye. And even days later when I picture them, the sight makes my cunt wet and sends those, so long ago, yet familiar tingles deep through my cunt.
Hold me, I want you. I slip my ethereal arms around your waist and see the moan appear on the screen as I push my body as close to yours as I'm allowed... I know it's escaping your mind as you type and I need to know everything.
We undress each other as we undress ourselves, piece by piece. You ask me to slip off my shorts and I comply. You don't need to see it to believe me and you unbuckle your belt and unzip your jeans even as I slip my own shorts off and toss them off my feet. I ask you to leave them around your ankles. I want to envision you sitting in front of the screen, leaning back, underwear and crumpled jeans around your ankles. You can leave your unbuttoned shirt on but I want it so your hairy belly and chest shows. I can see all of this with only words...
Fingers telling you everything you want to hear. I place my hands on the keyboard and begin to type.
The lights are low, the glow of the screen, you write to me what you want tonight, ask me if I've ever written such thoughts out or am I not able to express them. You know better and can almost hear me when I type, almost... Don't be absurd.
The wet spot on my underwear continues to grow and still you won't let me take my hands from the keyboard. My body gives over to the gentle rocking back and forth in my chair but I find little relief for my efforts.
Closing my eyes, I have to hear you. The page is not enough anymore.
I want more...
The poetry reverberates in my ears. I remember the cadence, tone and expression in the low softness as you read. I'm imagining what you feel reading those words, to me, for me, cheeks flushed hot. I'm painting your picture into mine with every word...
My heart leaps when the phone rings. Even though I expected it, it doesn't fail to startle me. I answer it without words and your complementing silence confirms it is indeed you... Breathing only and I'm taken, instinctively heading for my bed to lie down and talk to you. I want to hear your voice. Low and deep, sensual and quiet. That growl, your guttural and animal moans as you begin to orgasm.
I have to have you. It's never enough. I want you in the flesh, to feel the strength in your arms clasping me to you... I'm on my back, legs apart, with a dildo, fucking myself. But there's no connect. I need to feel you wrapped around me. Your arms holding me. I could almost cry, I need to have you so badly. I need you inside of me, I need to feel your weight on top of me. You, not this non- entity piece of plastic. I want to taste your salty sweat. I need to smell your scent, that masculine musk. Those lips, I have to suck them, taste them. Biting your flesh, drawing blood and I don't give a fuck anymore. I want to mark you and I want yours...
