every time i’m with you…

When you talk, I must focus on the shape of your words because your voice is already sucking on the softest part above my collarbone, between my neck and my shoulder (and I hope it leaves a mark). And when you smile? Oh, fuck: my cunt is instantly whetted with you-shaped need. When you pause to consider your next thot, I can’t even look at your lips or jaw without fear of giving away the throb that overwhelms my clit; I look away as I cross my long legs and squeeze my anklevery time i'm with youes instead. When our eyes do meet, I am done: I’m already fingering myself on my knees, watching you free your beautiful cock, my jaws slack with wonder. When you assert your heart’s truth, I cross my arms, I fidget, I make… tea, yes, tea… so that I won’t caress and kiss your face and turning, wait for you to pull my panties down so I can bend over — my smooth aroma coaxing out the sweetest of your delicious moans. When you gesture the way you do, I distract us with teasing and talk about others so that I won’t press my slim, naked secrets up against you, so that you won’t notice how my breath still catches every time I see you.

Full of wanting is my cum.
Inside me, your fullness.

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