Warning: NSFW (of course!) I swear that I don't -only- write erotica. >.> This one focuses on self-pleasure.
Alone in her room at the end of her day, she slips out of
her clothing and onto her bed. Her eyes close, and she thinks back over her
day. Her mind lingers on the phone call with her lover yesterday, away on a trip. She
sighs softly as his face swims before her mind’s eye. She stops thinking about
the call and focuses instead on his eyes, the curve of his cheek, the way his
lips quirk when he smiles.
Her own lips smile, and she lets her mind drift…sliding down
his body, unclothing it as she goes. She imagines letting her fingers slip over
the skin of his chest, the solid warmth soothing and stirring her at once. Her
fingers follow her imagined trajectory, tracing that path on her own body. Her
fingertips linger between her breasts as she thinks about stroking his chest.
Her mind wanders lower, and her fingers follow…down his
stomach, tickling softly over her curves. When she gets to his hips, her own
shift, her fingers moving to her outer hip and tracing the line inward over the
velvety soft skin just above her mound.
Her lips open as her mind brings his cock into view, fully
erect and jumping slightly toward her imagined touch. Her body flushes as she
thinks about the look on his face when she touches him there, how he smiles and
then gasps.
She shifts again and then imagines herself kneeling down,
her lips leaving a feathery trail from his neck to his hips. Her hand lowers on
her own body, just touching the top of her slit, one finger gently stroking
there.
In her mind, she opens her lips, lets her breath blow warmly
over his tip, hears him gasp again. She smiles, and when she lowers her head to
brush her lips against him softly, her free hand raises to touch her physical
lips. The touch causes her to whimper softly, because she wants, so badly, to
take him between her real lips.
She imagines stroking over his shaft slowly, and the hand at
her slit moves lower, pressing and rubbing over herself. Her hips press back
against her hand, and she thinks about how it feels when she pulls her head
back slightly, wets her lips, and presses down…. How his head warms and opens
her mouth, how his shaft feels sliding in and filling her.
She groans a little in frustration, wanting that sensation,
wanting to know she’s making him happy. Her fingertips tease over her lips
until she thrusts them inside. Her lips tighten, and she sucks hard.
Her fingers thrust in and out of her mouth, mimicking the
imagined movements of her lover. As she imagines his hips pushing toward her
face, her own hips push against her lower hand until her fingers slip between
her folds, touching her clit and causing her to moan around the fingers in her
mouth.
As she sucks and writhes on and under her own fingers, she
imagines the taste of his pre-cum on her tongue. She laps at her fingertips as
she would at his tip, eager for that taste, letting her memories fill it in. She
remembers how he groans, how his hands slide into her hair, encouraging her to
move faster, pushing himself in deeper.
She moans as her heart beats harder, her body hot under her
touch, her fingers slipping in and out of the wetness of both sets of lips
faster, more insistently.
Suddenly she stops and just sucks, hard, on her fingers, as
she would when she hears his shuddering gasp, signaling his release. She whimpers,
wanting to feel and taste that hot spray coating her tongue, running down her
throat.
Her body shudders as she reaches release herself and then
lies there, panting, her hand still between her legs and the fingers from her
mouth falling to her chest. She’s still in this pose when the phone rings;
glancing at the ID, she sees his number.
Smiling, she picks it up. “I was just thinking about you….”
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