I miss my lover in this time of separation. Seeing him and talking to him remotely is nice in its own way. It reminds me he thinks of me, still loves me, and even misses me. However, this doesn’t substitute the raw need to touch, hold and fuck who you love. Being alone where I dwell offers plenty of opportunities to deal with the frustration this inevitably makes.
My body and mind , however, are not satisfied with this for long. I know I could pleasure myself but anymore my own touch feels like when you slide your finger over a surface encrusted with dust. Old and unused, unloved and forgotten.
My lover gave me a break from this experience when he sent me a video of him using my toy. The pang that ran through reminded me of how long it’s been to the extent I feel it in my back. I’m pleased that he thinks of as he strokes his shaft. Though I can’t stop the petty wish that he was closer and I could sit in his lap and remind him of how I feel.