Love,
This morning I tried to cum without you. Selfish of me, I know.
Let me paint a picture for you:
It’s early. My alarm clock has just gone off and I want five more minutes to myself in bed before I need to start the day. There is a slight breeze fluttering the curtains and the rest of the apartment is drenched in sunlight. If I decided to just roll back over and go back to sleep, I very well could have. Instead, however, I wanted to start the day off glowing (and sometimes, coffee doesn’t cut it).
I caressed my way down my body, like I know you want to. I slid my warm fingers over my breasts, touching and teasing my nipples. I traced along the tiger stripes on my belly and spread my legs, thinking about all the ways I wanted to be touched by you.
Dip your fingers in my honey; if you were to wake me up with your length rock hard against my ass, I would moan sleepily but oblige you. I promise you as soon as you started, I wouldn’t just lay there, I would fuck back: arch my back, tangle my fingers in the sheets and let each delicious moan fill the air.
Swirl your fingertips against my clit in that way that you do… I, for some reason unbeknownst to me, can’t cum without you now. I have tried and I spend more effort trying to find ecstacy than enjoying it. Why did you break me like this? There are days that the conversation remains civil, but under my cool exterior, I am alight with need. Trace fire over my body in the form of your touches and I promise I will reward you with my sighs and your name dripping from my lips.
The most excruciating part is that even though I moaned your name, two fingers curled in my heat, I was stranded at the edge of ecstacy. I thought, *maybe this morning will be different.* Plot twist, it wasn’t.
No matter what I do, my body refuses to listen to my pleas. I could be under the spray of hot water, rolling my nipples between my fingers with one hand, rubbing circles on my clit with the other, thoughts of being bent over your vanity with your fingers curled in me… It isn’t good enough…
…I have tasted the real thing. Laying in bed, legs spread with my little fuschia vibrator pressed to my clit… Picturing how I’d slide on top and gasp a moan when our eyes meet just isn’t cutting it. I have felt my skin prickle with gooseflesh, my nipples plump, the insatiable need to cum in your presence. Fantasizing about something I have tasted is the most wicked tease.
My need is being stretched more taught like a bow seeking release. My thighs quiver at the mere thought of your lips between them. Trace your fire along my skin and help me let loose this arrow of need.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dlo7ie/broken_letter_f