Sitting here staring at my screen, keys pressed against my fingertips and then there’s those thoughts of you that still exist within me, flashes of my memory. I still yearn for your touch so much that my senses were heighten in a way that I imagine you still inside me and it’s arousing. I was in an endless state of possibility and promise once again I opened up to you inviting you within these walls letting you reside in me. These thoughts provoking my moans to screams picturing us colliding beneath these sheets, moans playing out in my ears like music as my fingers strummed at my curves, thumbing at my strings. I was a puppet as you mastered the art of making love to me, we became poetry in motion and my streams you turned them into oceans. I devoted myself into the thought of you, the thought of me. This act no longer curiosity but the reality of my hands touching me. The words from my lips briefly paused from the undo pleasure as I imagine my tongue tracing your neck to below your chest before resting back on your lips again. Damn to have this again, my body roaming yours as my kisses seek out the depth of you. I haven’t felt that feeling since; that bliss, that elated state where you and I exist, now I just touch myself and reminisce.
Valerie Rene’a – Author
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