You could touch me here and I would inhale deeply at that first contact. Taking in air, taking in you. Your fingers would move against the soft addictive warmth of my cunt and I would lean into your touch. My hands would reach for your body, for the parts you love and the parts you don’t, all of you would electrify my body with the buzz of desire.
You could touch me here and I would moan so fucking sweetly as the weight of your body sank against me. Your fingers would move inside me and I would welcome you in, thighs spreading, back arching, cunt tingling. My hands would dig into your supple flesh, desperate, urgent, silently they would beg for more of you.
You could touch me here and I would yield to your will, my body would obey as you took control. Your fingers deep in my core would navigate me through wide oceans of pleasure, and I would ebb and flow, ebb and flow until you demanded that my waves crash against your shore. All the while my hands will be fixed upon you, anchoring me to you
You could touch me if you were here, but you’re not, so I touch myself and all the wonder of my cunt is my own. I clench, drip and come for myself. Knowing you want it, knowing you need it and wondering wickedly when I might let you have it.