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Miss You

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The sound of a pair of jeans being shed in a dark room.

Marissa closed her eyes and ran a hand over her collarbone. By now she knew better than to resist when thoughts of him became this frequent. The hand slid along the vee of her sweater and she fell into her pillow with a sigh. Tracing her fingertips along the swell of a breast, remembering his tongue tracing the same contour, the rush of sensation that stopped her dead in her tracks as it had a half dozen times earlier that day. No matter how long since they’d seen each other, when his phantom started distracting her there was only one cure.

The tiniest of whimpers in the back of his throat as she drew the flesh at the base of his thumb between her teeth.

She slid her palms up the curve of her breasts, running them lightly over nipples still concealed under wool and satin. A sharp twist to each brought her back arching off the bed and a dull throb between her legs. She continued to roll them between thumb and index finger, satisfied with the trickle of moisture that immediately seeped out of her cunt.

Their first night together, and the low groan that escaped as he slid inside her.

Red painted bursa escort nails and nimble fingers slid beneath her waistband. The lightest pressure on top of satin panties, really just the suggestion of a touch, and a tug at her nipple, the ache deepens and she wants to bypass the warm-up and just plunge the sparkling silver naughtiness in her sock drawer in and out until she’s completely incoherent.

She bent over to retrieve scattered clothing from the floor and suddenly he is behind her, pressed against her, and half whispers, half growls the suggestion that he fuck her senseless in just that position.

Patience is a virtue, she thinks wryly, and keeps the maddeningly light pressure running back and forth across her clit until she is dripping wet, then rips her jeans and panties off. One finger slides into the moist heat, plunges deep inside then back out to glide over the more sensitive areas, still a light touch.

Fingertips tracing across his skin as he writhes and moans beneath her. She draws a fingernail along his chin and down his throat and he loses the power to speak.

She is still using the sweater and bra to mute the touch against her exquisitely bursa escort bayan sensitive nipples, circling her palms on top of each breast to tease the peaks until they strain at the fabric holding them. Marissa pushes the sweater up and the cup of the bra down and pinches her left nipple as it hits the cooler air of her bedroom. A bolt of pure heat shoots from it to her aching, dripping slit and suddenly the emptiness is palpable. The rest of her clothing is ripped off as she reaches for the Next Best Thing, and her left hand has unfettered access to rock-hard nipples as the right drives a glittering silicone cock inside her to the hilt.

She is sitting between his knees, basking in the sensation of a summer night and fingers toying with the back of her neck. It had been friendly, and then his face is there over her right shoulder, a new look in his eyes, and the kiss is tentative and certain at the same time.

She slides it out slowly, and moves the first few inches behind the semi-realistic head in and out as her thumb seeks out and flicks across her clit. Another deep plunge and she is frantically fucking the toy, eyes squeezed shut and hips rising and escort bursa falling on the mattress as she tries to drive it into the elusive source of tension inside her.

An ordinary phone message, as she stands in the parking lot listening to his voice, and then the last two words nearly made her drop the phone as she frantically saves the message, then listens to it 5 more times on the way home to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.

She backs off the toy, using more graceful, long strokes, and turns her focus to the nub of flesh that he had so expertly tortured with his tongue the night before. She brings herself up to the edge several times, only to back off, switch tactics, and take in all the sensation. She can feel the memories. Her skin has become so sensitive that each brush against the sheets sends goosebumps down her arms, and she is determined to exorcise his ghost enough that she is no longer stopping dead in her tracks at the thought of his touch. The toy is abandoned as she turns both hands to her clit, and this time when she brings herself up to the edge Marissa gratefully throws herself over the precipice, tumbling down with a series of gasps and involuntary muscle spasms. She lies panting for a few minutes, able finally to think of anything other than the next time she’d get to fuck him, or the last time she had, and laughs out loud as the text “Miss you” appears on her cell phone.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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