Let me love you. Let me make out with you, then trail my lips from your neck all the way down to just above the waistband of your underwear. Just imagine the feeling of my lips hovering just above that sweet spot where your hot desire is growing. My warm breath across your skin, my lips and tongue and gentle touch in the perfect spot, igniting a flame in the deepest depths of you, striking a match in your heart. Imagine my hands under your thighs, just slightly holding your legs up while I kiss and lick and ****. Imagine how the warmth and tingling sensation will travel up your spine and into your head and back down your chest while you breathe, heavy and sporadic. Imagine how much harder you'll get when you see me come up to breathe, smirking smugly, my **** in the air, covered in lacy *******, my hair a mess from you sliding your hands in and out of it, my lips wet, my ******* aching hard and straining my bra. Think about running your hands all along those full curves, like two berries, ripe and ready to be picked. Hold them gently, as if one too-tight squeeze could break them. Kiss my lips as if one too-hard kiss could shatter them to pieces like a wineglass on a wooden floor. Touch me like I'm made of porcelain and listen to me moan "I love you. I love you. I love you."
Do you miss me now?
