Ohai, Love.
We have had quite the week, haven’t we?
Yesterday was nice, though. You looked amazing, as you always do when you wear a suit and tie. It took all of my self control to not stop and talk to you the very first time I laid eyes on you. I felt your gaze on me and we were like two magnets being held apart. Even now, I am still puzzling over what I would help you out of first: that vest or that tie. I would probably slowly undo each button on your vest, stop and fold it gently putting it aside and then… Then, I would undo the tie, hook my finger under it like I did a couple of times that night, except actually untie it just as methodically as you tied it that morning.
I was lost in ecstacy when you rubbed your hand over my fishnet clad thigh. It was the sensation of your fingers over the material rubbing against my thigh that drove me wild. I know you noticed when I spread my legs for you, silently begging and daring you to just rub my inner thigh and up a smidge. You have only dared to rub so close to my aching sex once. I was wearing shorts and you were feeling daring….
My lip is finally just about healed and it’s such a shame that when we will get our fill of each other next week, it will be bruised again. I can distinctly remember how it felt when you pulled my lip between your teeth and didn’t let go until I begged you to… Better still is when I stuck my tongue out at you with reckless abandon and you bit it, my whimpers nearly lost against your lips.
I am so full of need from our goodnights. When you leaned in so dangerously close, perfectly aware of prying eyes around us, I heard the unspoken dare to meet you halfway. That ragged breath I pulled between my teeth was me trying not to break. I wanted so badly to cup your cheek with my hand and kiss you passionately then and there. How badly did you want to grab my hips and press me up against my car to sate the need of your lips on mine?
You could touch me in the most innocent of ways and it still sets fire to my skin. I sit a little straighter in your presence, legs parted, daring you from behind my dark hair to please touch me. Most days you acquiesce: drawing your hand up and down my thigh while we chatter, or you catch me entirely off guard by drawing your cool fingertips over my arm lightly. The latter, you do light enough that it sends a cascade of gooseflesh rippling over my skin… And don’t let me forget those one off moments when you do touch the back of my neck or down my spine. It’s enough to send a ripple of pleasure through me.
All of these little touches have created this vast pool of need in me. Like a watering pail that is being filled but there’s a leak somewhere because no matter how many times I trace my darting fingerips over your thigh, no matter the fabric under my fingers it doesn’t sate me. I am wanton with lust for you and the warmth of your skin under my fingers.
When I leaned in and detailed how I am going to sink my teeth into your shoulder… How I am going to trace my tongue along your neck… How I am going to lay fierce kisses on that sweet spot where your neck and shoulders meet…. it pained me to maintain that arm’s distance between us.
You know I wanted to shatter my self control and lean in, throwing an arm around you and kiss you then and there. Would we have been able to separate once entwining like that? I doubt it. The need was almost palpable in the air between us, but we both danced around it while acknowledging its existence.
Now, I’m going to stop being so disciplined and maybe give into this aching need. I’ve already got two fingers on my clit and when I close my eyes, I can still distinctly feel every place you have touched me in the last 51 hours. I need your touch, mine isn’t doing anything for me. I won’t cum like this and I will still be wound so very, very tight. A bow stretched taught waiting for release.
But I could hope.
Xx
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dec0m7/soon_but_not_soon_enough_f