I wake some mornings with the smell of her wetness stuck in my nostrils. The taste of her juices lingering on my tongue. And some with the feel of her lips on mine.
Some nights I feel her pressed against me as I drift off to sleep, others I fall asleep with my nipple in her mouth and a palm cupping a breast.
Every time I touch myself, twisting, pinching and pulling my nipples, I hear her moans ringing in my ears and as I caress my way down my body, I feel her arching herself against me. Her body reaching up to press itself against mine.
When I finally flick the swollen clit between my folds, I shiver just how I imagine she would and I can't stop myself from whispering her name in the silence.
She is like a drug I didn't know I needed and she won't let me forget it.
As I spread my lips and find my wetness, I feel the ache to touch her and feel her moist folds. Bury myself between her juicy thighs and drink of her heady, intoxicating nectar of the gods.
As I slide my fingers in and out of myself, I see her thrashing under me, getting closer and closer to her release. Her moans fill my head and am surprised to hear myself. Am so close to the edge when I feel her clamp around my fingers and her juices gush out and with a soft whisper of her name, my fingers are coated in my own pleasure and the sheets under me are soaked. My breath catches as I stiffen at the realisation she isn't really under me.
Yes, she invades my fantasies and takes my breath away.
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