I wonder, a lament

I wonder, does she remember fondly the times we spent together as I do? The times when I enfolded her in my arms. The tingle when we kissed. The moments talking in pubs and after snogging in the car park. The nervousness when I made her go barefoot. The vulnerability of being handcuffed.

I wonder, does she realise the effect she had on me, realising that here was a girl who didn’t dismiss out of hand my wants and desires. Who seemed to enjoy the tease of doing what I asked. Never seeming to be put off by it.

I wonder does she remember in the same way how vulnerable she looked with her tiny hands locked behind her in unyielding steel? How worried she was when I left her bound in the car for a few minutes. How the woods felt when she was alone with me.

I wonder if she remembers how my cock tastes as vividly as I remember how soft her lips were and how wonderful it felt as she tentatively engulfed it with her mouth?

I wonder if she longs for more time? Wonders what would happen if we’d had an hour? An evening? A weekend? A lifetime?

I wonder does she think of the things I wanted and wonder what they would be like? To feel soil beneath her feet? The bark of a tree against her skin. The soft embrace of rope holding her restrained. The touch of a man while so held.

I wonder has she tried any of them? Has she slipped off her shoes while walking the dogs? Has she backed up to a tree, put her arms around it and imagined being tied there? Has she removed her clothes and thought about being ravished?

I wonder does she think of the things we talked about? Does she remember offering to let me tie her to my bed for the day? Does she think about being barefoot? Being so used to it that she would ask me if she needed to wear shoes rather than me telling her not to. Does she wonder what my cock would feel like in her mouth? In her pussy? In her ass? Does she wonder what my cum would taste like when we finally got there? Does she think about how satisfying that would be to make me cum with just her lips?

I wonder, would she meet me at the airport? Would she be barefoot? Would she be ready to be bound, toyed with, teased and ultimately pleasured?

I wonder if she thinks of me at all, as I think of her? Remembering the barefoot scamper across a wet car park. The times in the woods and her on her knees, cuffed, shoeless and about to suck me for the first time.

I wonder if she thinks of me at all?

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/11j0bw7/i_wonder_a_lament