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.