~ erotica ~
My thoughts turn to you in the most mundane of moments.
Rising from the sofa, arms extended, stretching my muscles. My shirt lifts, air kissing my stomach, and I feel your hands on my sides. Your lips on my belly button. Your grip pulling my flesh closer to you.
Driving on the highway, windows down, singing and smiling to my music. The cool wind grazing my chest, my nipples, and suddenly your lips are there again. Sucking, nipping at my breasts. Without intention, I feel the same heat as that night, that moment, surging through my abdomen.
Sitting on the sofa, watching whatever is on television. Not too long ago, you sat in that same spot. I knelt on the floor in front of you, eyes only on you. A simple gesture and I crawled forward. The tickle of my tail, a pretty butt plug you gifted me for my birthday, brought a devilish grin to my face.
I wonder when thoughts of me meander into your mind.
Do you remember my hands each time you shower? The kneading of your flesh on stressful days. The kisses on your neck that accompanied my touch. My naked body’s occasional contact, the tease before our eventual release.
Do you remember my voice? My whispers into your ear as I grasped your body on top of mine. My exhalations of affection, admiration, lust, and filthy fuckitude. The aching as you teased me. The breathless need as you entered me. The hurried cadence as I came.
Do you recall my scent? Flowery and fruity. The lotion I use, rubbed onto my arms and legs. The cream I caress on my face. The body spray across my chest, my shoulders, on my wrists, and one fun spray down low. You always told me I smelled so good.
When do you remember me, love? Because I always remember you.
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