She couldn't sleep. She was listening to the quiet tick of the clock, which never seemed to have the correct time, no matter how many times she reset it. She lay on her belly, staring aimlessly, the dim light from a lamppost creeping in through the shades. The bed sat about eighteen inches high on the dark stained wood floor. Her fingers trailed lightly across it, her nails catching the grooves with soft scratches. The floor vents occasionally blasting warm, dry air into the room, she imagined it was your breath, trailing her spine.
The way your fingers would curl around the dimples of her back, and trace their way up to the nape of her neck. You always did have a way with your hands. She bent her knee, and stretched her leg up toward her chest, raising her right hip off the bed, just enough. She closed her eyes, and grazed her fingers from hip, across the patch of sensitive skin, to her other hip. A gentle whisper enters her memory. "That's it, Baby. Relax." Another blast of warm air against her leg, and she lolled lazily onto her back. Her fingers explored her familiar curves, leaving a trail of goose flesh in their wake. Her hands cupped and massaged her, now very perky, breasts. Her thumb grazed one of her erect nipples, and a soft exhale hit her supple lips. And then the memory of sudden blissful pressure, the warmth of skin on skin, the deep exhales, and then, a quiet, gentle plea of "Please, for me." The warmth, and the need, and the urgency swept over her, the way your body used to.
Then her thoughts drift to where you are now. Probably in a hotel, with a blonde, she thinks to herself.
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You'd make me watch, just to punish me for being so awful to you. I'd be confined to a corner of your room. My jealousy would start as the sounds of your laughter and hers drift in from the living room. The jealousy grips me harder as I watch you lead her into your room, toward the bed, your hands gripping her hips. I want so badly for your hands to be on my hips, firm and warm, but I know if I move I will suffer more.
You kiss her softly on the neck, and nibble her ear. She backs up toward the bed, almost immediately, with no protest. Not in anyway my style, and I begin to think how much more fun you'd have with me. You begin to kiss along the collar of her low cut shirt. In one seemingly fluid motion, you managed to undo her bra, and take it off along with her shirt. As you begin to playfully lick, and bite her nipples, you give me a pointed look. She begins to moan, and I want so badly to join you.
You continue with your usual foreplay route, suckling on her nipples, and gently teasing the now moist bit of skin between the lips of her pussy, every so often looking at me, to give me a look that seems to say, "this could've been you." You've pulled off her tight fitting jeans, and inched your way down her body, kissing the inches of exposed skin. You kiss and bite at her inner thighs, and then breathe softly over her panties. Her wetness was apparent, glistening around her g-string. She writhes and moans, as your teasing becomes more unbearable. I can feel my pussy soaking through to my panties, as I watch.