There’s a woman I’ve been thinking about lately. You might say that she’s been haunting me… She rarely leaves my mind for long.
You probably think that it’s strange to read such a statement as that, written by me. I’ve never said anything like this before. The fact that I’m now writing it to publish for all the world, if the world is so inclined, to read seems impossible to me. Yet, here I am, fingers trembling on the keyboard as I slowly conduct them to share with you my breathless desire for this woman.
I’ve never met her, but I know her well. At least I feel as though I know her. I know that her beauty is arresting, but not aggressively so. And I know that something in her bright, dark eyes promises to revive you just at the moment you realize that just laying eyes on her has taken your breath away. When her rich chestnut-colored hair falls across those eyes, you’re lost and alone again… at least until she smiles at you as she runs her fingers through her soft tresses, tucking a lock behind her ear as if it might stay there for more than a brief moment before sliding seductively across her cheek once more. When I see her gazing up through through the veil of her hair, my thoughts are nothing short of salaciously wicked.
I know every soft curve of her body; it is so like my own that I sometimes imagine that she is nothing more than an aural projection of my own body, a more provocative and naughty mirror image of myself. I imagine my fingertips tracing across the supple flesh of her stomach, racing toward her ample breasts, only lingering briefly as they flutter across her dark, responsive nipples before my hands glancingly encircle her long, slender neck before meeting in a tangle of those soft, dark locks behind her head, pulling her shoulders back and drawing those iniquitously promising eyes to mine. Her soft, delicate hands reach out to me and taunt me as her natural and perfectly maincured fingernails playfully graze the flesh of my soft breasts, almost scratching me, but not quite; almost pincing erect and aching nipples before her arms find their way around my body and she draws the warm paradise of her skin to my own. She embraces me as a lover, one of her feet slightly between mine, she delicately leans into me there, her thigh massaging that erogenous area where my legs become my sex. As I pull her mouth toward mine, seeking to taste the sweetness of her lips and wetness of her tongue, she pressed even harder against my thighs, raising her knee slightly, but assertively to grind against my smooth mound and I am happy to recieve it at the moment my mouth receives the candylike softness of her tongue.
It is through this act that she preoccupies my thoughts. With her hair still entwined among my fingers, I could so easily guide her to her knees and become lost is the ecstasy of her wet mouth on my aching clit. It would be an almost effortless transition, and she would be so eager to please, but more than I want to feel her mouth on me and fingers inside me, I need to share her eagerness and see the pleasure it brings…