This morning, as the rain pelted the windows, I felt your breath against my neck, your eyes piercing mine as you lay next to me, those dark brown eyes that melt me, I felt your finger on my clit, slowly massaging it, enjoying that control you have over me, as you do. And I woke up too quickly, but kept myself in a dream state as I brought my own fingers to my cunt and pretended it was your hand there, on me, controlling me, as the rain continued to pour down against and beat against the roof top. We were both happy there, unafraid, and wanting. I closed my eyes and for the next ten minutes imagined you torturing me, pulling away each time I was about to come, just watching me quiver and then shake as I couldn’t take it anymore. I swirled my fingers over my clit and imagined so hard it was you, until I exploded and squirted all over myself, moaning and biting my lip, holding myself in the warm and wishing it was you there holding me, and maybe stealing a kiss or two or a thousand, instead of being alone here listening to the rain.
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There’s a photo of you where your posture and eyes make me almost come by just looking at it. I feel my cunt tingle, my thighs clench, as my body involuntary moves against the air, just looking at you and your gaze at me, the photographer. There’s something about your energy that turns me on so much, I can’t explain it in words. Your hair, your neck, your scent. The way sometimes you look at me–I wonder if you think the same things, even though you don’t want to, because I’m married and you’re not and you know nothing can come of any of this. But I crave you. I crave your sweat and your lips and your cock. I want to get on my knees and take you deep in my throat and make you feel good. I want you do do whatever you want with me, to me. Or let me tie you up and I’ll do whatever I want to do, if that’s what you want. Just tell me–I’ll do anything.
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I’m sure you’re fucking some other girl tonight. Why wouldn’t you be? I’m not jealous, I can’t be. You are living your life, and I’m living mine. But I want to just fucking build that tension and next year when we’re traveling for work slip you a key to my hotel room w/ a time on it and leave it in your court. You’d never show up. But what if you did and I was there, lying on the bed, spread eagle, waiting, desperately, and what if you came, what if you said fuck it and there you were, hungry, but unafraid, just accepting that for one night we can have each other, taste each other, breathe together and fuck again and again if you’re up for it, on the bed, on the floor, against the wall, in the shower, on the dresser, balcony if there is one, wherever you want me, I’ll bend and I’ll break and I don’t care, I need you to fill me up with your wonderful. Fucking fill me up with your wonder.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ecpk7i/office_crush_and_the_morning_rain_a_letter_xposted