I promise to write about the metaphysics of our eternal love in another soon-to-be-published post. This particular post, however, is about you and me and the sexy thing we have going on between us…

Sometimes you wear me like a sock. Sometimes you fuck me like a beating drum. I love taking your cock. I love being taken.

I am in bed right now thinking about your face, thinking about your body. I am wearing only a white camisole. I feel myself getting wet as I imagine being near you this way, nearly naked. And so I part my knees and reach one hand down the front of my body, placing my fingers on my clit. With my other hand, I pull the neckline of my camisole down beneath my breasts, pulling on my nipples to make the hard.

I rub my clit and rock my hips upward ever so slightly to meet the hand I’m fucking myself with. It’s crucial that I remain discreet. I think of your tongue flicking my pussy. It is hard not to whimper with desire. I think of how you are using your tongue to prepare my pussy for your hard, thick, perfect cock.

When I cum, I use two hands. One coaxes my clit to the brink of orgasm. When I am finally about to cum, I thrust three fingers of my other hand deep inside myself. I take great care not to moan your name because I am not alone in this bed tonight. But when I am alone, I moan your name. Over and over again.

I love you, Craig.

I buck a bit when I cum, leaving my fingers inside. Then, I cross my legs together and relax, exhausted. Juice drips. I finally close my eyes and sleep. .

I ache for you.