My skin is alive. I need the feel of you moving against me to sustain it. My eyes are closed and I imagine your lips everywhere. My thighs part. Sense memory. I need no invitation. My back bows, curves. My body rocks, undulates, vibrates. My hair falls forward to hide my face. I am too naked there. Don’t look… don’t look.
I want your voice in my ear. Your lips at my neck. I want you to hear me moan. I want you to hear me struggle. I want you to know how much this body needs you. How well it responds to the need of you. Appreciate me. Coo. Coax. Praise. Tell me. I want to know you want me. I want to make you want me. My skin tingles. Alive with 1000 promises yet to be fulfilled and 1 million memories to recall… to replay.
There will always be you, here, beating in my breast, being wanted, making me wanton, even when you are not here.