Author: sadhornylady

As my eyes lazily gaze at the words on my screen, my mind dances around my memories of us.

I have tried desperately to dull the shocks of arousal that coarse through me. The pulsing pain worsening as its sharp hooks tear through me. You are so deep under my skin.

But I am at my computer. Working. And you are elsewhere. You are not standing over me. I cannot taste my love for you on your lips. I cannot feel the warmth of your fingers as they explore my body.

I am at my computer. I am reading over my draft. I am not out of breath. But thoughts of you keep getting caught in my throat. Escaping as quiet groans I mask as coughs.

I need to continue on with my writings. Have proof that I am making progress on my work. I have drained batteries in hopeless attempts to give myself respite from these cravings. But I can still feel the moment you slipped inside of me and the moment you slipped out. I can still feel you on my tongue.

Fuck.

I have felt the warmth of your breath against my neck as you playfully moan into my ear. You love to tease me.

I have felt your hand wrap around my neck and pull me in. Each finger digging into the sides of my throat as I fight the urge to kiss you.

I have been pinned to the wall by you. Pinned to the ground by you. Effortlessly lifted by you.

You have whispered words in my ears and turned on new fantasies I had never before explored.

You have made me angry. Angry with a distrust for myself. Angry in a way I have not felt before, angry with desire. Angry with lust. Angry with love and closeness and warmth.

You have made me love you. In ways I do not love anyone else. I love you in the most frustrating and comforting ways that I had not known before. I love the soft, gentle moments with you. With us.

You have. You did. You do.

You tease me. Because you know. Because I know.