I’ve been busy writing all day, but not stuff that I want to write. Receiving your photos was a welcome distraction, even though I had only a moment to spare. Mmmm, those creamy thighs. Then more writing, writing, and more writing, until I dared to sneak another peek. Oh, to imagine my face and tongue buried against those smooth lips perched beneath that warm tuft of public hair.
More paragraphs, like miles beneath a car on the highway, until I stop to view your closed eyes, your come-hither gaze, your smile, the nape of your neck. More writing. The sentences are harder to come by. As I write, my mind now wanders to the smooth skin that leads to your delicious nipples, imagining my tongue circling, swirling.
I need release, and not only from the task of writing. The necessary words somehow still flow from my fingers even though my mind is focused on your gartered stockings, those sexy boots.
I need to take some time for myself. I sit back with your photos and gently tease my cock, taking my time now, fingertips softly sliding up and down the outside of my shaft. It only takes a couple of passes until my already-hard cock is moist and dripping.
Photos are nothing like the real thing, but right now, they don’t matter. The imagery in my mind is what counts now. My eyes closed, I encircle my shaft and begin to slowly stroke as a series of disjointed images pass through my mind… Kissing your body all over. Feeling your warm breath. Feeling your lips on my body, your mouth around my cock. Kissing, licking you, gentle bites. Hands roaming. Warm bodies entwined. Caressing, riding, thrusting, feeling, touching. I long to be there, but this will have to be the next best thing for now.
The imagery flowing through my mind moves faster, as does my stroking. When my release comes, it comes long and hard. When I’m done, I write again.
I wrote this.
Story Notes:
I wrote this one in just a few minutes… yes, in between writing other things.