I was thinking about your question last night, "What makes you hard?"
Porn, fucking, and naked women all have a pretty good effect. Reading a stirring bit of erotica obviously engorges me. If I think about what makes me crazy, however, or what makes me ache for release, I think it is more cerebral than visual. I think that my fantasy woman is someone who fantasizes and craves as much as I. Someone who loves the sight, the smell, the sounds. A woman who knows what it is that she wants, and isn't afraid, or embarrassed to ask for it - or take it.
I often find myself day dreaming about the soft, seductive, and wanton touch of such a woman. A woman who cannot and will not wait. I quietly create a particularly needful and sometimes deliciously filthy incident in the corners of my mind. Frequently I dwell much too long on the invented scene, leaving me unable to rise from my work desk until I can calm the anxious and demanding flesh below.
Yesterday, I did just that...
I arrive home for the day. I park my car and sigh heavily. Wearily I exit my car, get my bag and walk up to the door of our apartment. The key slides easily into the lock, clicks, and turns. The apartment is dim as the door swings open and I walk in, closing the door behind me. Only at that moment do I sense that I'm not alone. I turn around and see you dressed in a lightweight, tight, white t-shirt, your nipples pressing hard against the fabric. Your jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped. I see your slender fingers withdrawing from deep within your dark-blue panties as my eyes travel up and down your body.