It’s in a touch

When I look in the mirror and see my skin. Feel how my fingertips tickle the curves of my breasts, my waist, my thighs. I think of him.

When I lie down, and close my eyes, and my hands wander to my nipples. I bite my lip as they get taut when I tug them. And I think of him.

When I listen to the rhythm of it vibrate, gently, softly between my legs. And I concentrate on my breathing. I still think of him. And how he wanted me. Of how his hands touched my body. Of how his lips found mine time after time…of how, in that moment, I was the only thing on his mind.

And the vibrating gets faster. My legs part wider. The pleasure intensifies. And I start to moan, softly at first. And I focus on the sensation. I think of him and want him.

I turn it on higher. And higher. My hips move slightly. I push into it. Vibrating. And the pleasure breaks me. And I moan louder as the sensation spreads through my body. Peaking in ecstasy as I say his name. And he’s not there. To share it with. Because he doesn’t want me.

I lay naked on my bed. Breathing deeply. Still connected to the lingering effects of the pleasure… and I feel sheepish for thinking of IT Guy in this way. I blush and get dressed.

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~ by shespeakstruth on January 31, 2013.