Dear Gentle Sir,
There is something about the midday light that elicits a particular kind of restlessness in me. It’s the same kind of shiver you can only see by looking in my eyes when you are say, feverishly swinging my legs over your shoulder to side-fuck me. Or, when you take my toes into your warm mouth and watch me moan and writhe with surprise.
I spend long periods of time trying not to touch myself when I think about you. I am rarely successful, however. Today, for instance, the image of your clenched jaw as you finger me into yet another feral cum spun me headlong into a series of toe-curling masturbation sessions.
And it is the watching – the way you look and watch and see me – when I am at my most open and therefore, most vulnerable; it is your beautiful eyes on me that somehow continue to rule over nearly every corner of my memory… and my imagination. Years later, I am still woven into the Mystery of being with you.
Today, I wanted to call you each time. I wanted you to sense how my smooth skin warms at the mere thot of you. I wanted you to hear my moans and throaty coos to remember how deeply you still move me.
I wanted you to ask me what I was doing… so that I could tell you how I couldn’t get the right pressure against my clit and so, just like when you’ve suddenly, needfully, and confidently picked me up or swung me around to suit your needs better, I too suddenly needed more. I wanted to tell you how quickly I pushed my bum back and up, one arm stretched out and supporting while the other pushed my lace thong down farther. All so that I could feel my own heat spread and put my full clit’s weight onto my knuckles and cum for you.
(And that was just the first round.)
With each round, I wanted to cum for your eyes and ears and taste buds and hands and cock and ass and inner thighs and heart and more… I wanted to cum for all of you. I wanted you here, naked with me in the soft, midday heat of this summer sun. I wanted you like I want you…
Now,
Lola xo
