A picture is worth a thousand moans…

      13 Comments on A picture is worth a thousand moans…

I send him a photographic story upon waking, warm arousal flushing my skin from late-night fever-hot dreams.

Click.

Aching nipples, pebbled against the night, distraught at the loss of his suckling mouth pulling, demanding, willing sustenance in my closed-eye illusions just moments before.

Click.

Back arched.

Legs splayed.

Click.

And creamy slick syruped slit, glossy thick nectar dripping, tangible proof that he was there, but moments ago, if only in my sleeping fantasy.

Send…

I swirl my fingers through the liquid pooled between my thighs, plump fingertip penetration provoking a gasp as I struggle against the softly violent invasion.  Drawing my liquescent need up over my swollen bud, I give in to the greedy desideratum of my body, and chase the lightning sparks to breathless stinging fulmination.

Minutes, hours…

Perhaps it is only seconds, every one of them filled with his touch through my hands, alone but not, in the silver moon night.

Time is illusive on the edge of infinity, and when at last I have shuddered my release into the dim light of just-midnight, when the inferno has faded to cinder luminosity, I fall again, deep deep down into the ember glow of heated dreams.

.

.

.

.

.

B-blink.

B-blink.

B-blink.

The blue flashing message light, pulsing in time to my heartbeat pounding against the desire between my thighs, greets me as I swim, reluctantly, to morning consciousness.

I click the app open and read his response to my snapshot narrative.

“I wish I were there when you woke up last night,” he says.

My lips tilt upward as my hands explore the curve of my hip, and, before once again stoking the fire igniting in my veins, I respond:

“You were.”

13 thoughts on “A picture is worth a thousand moans…

  1. dokurtybitz

    But I wasn’t there in the way I wanted to be there :-*

    this is a very erotic post 🙂 and now I’m back, to the place I was, when I awoke to your message

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