Tonight I lie awake, and my nipples tingle and harden as I think about you filling me.
Any orifice would do; were you here you could have your choice.
My mouth is warm and wet and welcoming,
And I would willingly let my lips slide and stretch over your glistening cock-head.
My asshole is tight and would hold you hard within her vice-like grip.
But tonight my mind is racing, and my body is on automatic pilot.
And tonight it is my cunt that is ravenous for you.
My wet, tight, pink-petalled pussy.
It oozes and drips, and throbs when I imagine you,
Your face buried between my thighs,
Licking me slowly.
My clit pulses to a syncopated rhythm of blood and sex,
How she longs for your tongue to swirl around her, to suck and tease and tickle.
When you slide your finger inside my cunt, still sucking my clit, I keen and wail.
My cunt clenches around your digits, as she slicks you with her ambrosia, and I grind my hips in a dance of pure hunger.
I want to cover your face in her juices, and to lick you clean afterwards, tasting myself all over you.
I imagine the way you look up at me, gauging my desire, my tempo,
Deciding what I need, and what you’re willing to give me.
Two fingers now, please?
I want more of you inside.
With each honey-slick stroke and thrust of your hand, my pussy becomes hungrier, wetter.
I know you feel her spitting on your palm.
As you slide another finger inside, and scissor against my inner walls, I grab the back of your head and push my mound harder against your mouth.
Lick me. Yes, lick me.
Taste every drop, imbibe the sweet lotion of my desire for you as it pours from my desperate cunt. Her mouth is watering, she is so hungry for you.
Flick, flick, flick
Your tongue feels divine against my clit, and your fingers in my cunt send tremors through me. I hear you moan against my flesh and I buck and grind on you; your skillful tongue, your wet mouth, your thrusting fingers. God, how I want to cum for you, to show you just how wild you make me.
Now, oh baby, now!
My whole body shakes and I am rendered a sweating, shouting, crying mess. But you don’t let up. Your fingers continue to coax another orgasm from me, while you suck on my nub. It throbs and thrums in between your lips, and when you moan it sends deep vibrations into the slick and slippery flesh.
My cunt spasms again and again, spewing forth her hot liqueur like a bubbling volcano. I hear you moan again as you lap at the overspill, and tell me in a thick, rich voice how good my pussy tastes; tell me what a good girl I am, and how much you worship my cunt.
You run your hands over me, adoringly, reverently, as my moans and shudders are replaced by gentle breaths and contented sighs.
As the whirring of the fan drones on and the minutes tick down to so-late-it’s-early, I slip my own fingers out of my drooling cunt, and bring them to my mouth. Salty and slick, the liquid coats my lips and tongue as I imagine that I’m licking it from your beautiful face rather than my own hand.
If I must be left to my imagination tonight, I muse, then at least I am fortunate to have a vivid one. And dextrous fingers, to boot.