I touch myself to thoughts of you.
Closing my eyes, I picture you,
Running your fingers through my hair,
Caressing my skin, as lovers do.
I picture you on top of me,
Sliding your erection deep inside,
And wetness blooms over my fingers.
I think of you rubbing yourself,
Of your fingers delving in and out of me.
I can almost taste your cum,
And I think of your mouth down under.
I touch myself as as images flash through my mind,
Of the way you make me feel.
A soft moan escapes.
I can almost feel your lips on my neck
And your hands on my breasts.
I touch myself as I think of you finishing for me.
The more I miss you, the more I touch myself.
When I’m alone, I touch myself
As I think of you waiting for me.
I close my eyes and imagine our reunion sex.
A sigh escapes me as I touch myself.
I whisper your name and cry as I touch myself.
I touch myself to slow songs that remind me of you.
I touch myself to fast songs I know you like.
I repeat your name and wish you were here.
I think of you dominating me
And I’m lost to the pleasure.