The Thought of You

Lying in bed, listening to the snoring beast next to me, my thoughts drift to him; what I want you to do to me. I feel a flush rise in my face and a sensation like a pleasant shock run down my thighs and into my toes. I find myself smiling in spite of myself, knowing that I'm lying here next to one man, willing my body to feel another's hands' knowing touch. A familiar tightening knot starts its thrum and I can't help but roll over. While a body pillow will substitute for the warm body of a lover at rest, this was going to need more than thoughts if I ever wanted to sleep. My mind is watching my hands slip myself out of my panties, knowing that there's a sex-starved sleeping man inches from me. However, the rest of me is concerned with only satisfying myself while thinking of a distant man; one who I have never met but who has fucked me in my head more than once.

While I deeply desire to be thoroughly violated by him, my fingers are going to have to suffice for tonight.

Once the free of restraint, and I can hear the steady breathing of the man beside me, I begin. The light touches on the thighs, warm and fleshy, hiding the jewel below. The feeling of my fingers stroking the irregular lengths of hair made my toes twitch, and grabbing a handful saw my nipples stand up, speaking in tongues in ecstasy. I'd been thinking about him for hours, how sensitive was I already?

Slipping a finger in the slit of my pussy lips told me two things, I should have gotten a towel, and this is going to be a challenge to keep The Interloper asleep. The brush with my engorged clit almost made me cry out. I sucked in a harsh breath and clamped my thighs together to stifle my cry, leaving my fingers accidentally half pressed against myself. As if my legs had run a marathon, they shook, and the twist of muscles long forgotten bade the rest of me, "come hither".

It would seem that I was more ready than I thought. Slow, I'd have to go slow if I wanted this to last. Right. I moved my hand to my nipple and rolled it around in my fingers. Tonight, I want to be restrained, blindfolded, and teased into a lather. I am never closer to losing my mind than when I have been worked up to within moments of orgasm, feeling a cock start to slide into me, only to stop and retreat. That feeling of denial, you can't have it yet makes my eyes roll back in my head just thinking about it. This will be my fantasy tonight. This is how I want to cum with the imaginary him.

I lay there, biting back ragged breaths, thinking about being tied up, listening to his voice drop a register and purr to me inches from my ear about how I can't have it yet. I can only have a taste, the feeling of his cock parting my lips is like a lightning bolt to the spine. Slowly, deliberately he's pushing into my dewy, willing center. The kiln of desire, the path to the sacred vessel. The heat must be immense, the fire stoked, I feel his hips slide forward more than either of us expected. The grin on his face the mirror to the grimace of denial on mine. More. It's not enough.

I want it, I feel myself reach for him, chase his receding cock with my body, fruitlessly though as my hands are bound. He will give it to me when you say I can have it. I will have to wait hungrily, silently. I lay back, waiting for the next thrust as if every nerve in my body were made of electrified wire. I can sense his thighs moving, feel him thrust into me, bury his cock into me until our thighs collide in a slap of bone, muscle, and lust. He hungrily grasps my ass, branding me with his fingerprints, and pulls my body up onto his as I beg for more. He pulls back and slides out with a wet and audible "pop". On his knees, his eager cock bobs to a rhythm all its own. Each quiver entices me with what it could do to me, with the unrequited carnality of the moment. The knot in my neverwhere, that place between flesh and divinity strains against its abdominal prison.

Make me beg for it. Take me to the edge, feel my pussy start to quiver and deny me. Reduce me to ragged breaths and animal moans. Control me. And for a moment, own me. Fuck me like a piston, leave your mark, abuse my nipples with your mouth and bite my thighs. I want him to chase our orgasms like prey; fast, wild, and final. Drag them home to feast on in the afterglow.

Those thoughts ran through my head as I lie there shuddering from orgasm, fingers slick with my juices and cheeks red from contained lust. As I hear a half-snore from the other half of the bed, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. A puckish smirk tugs at my lips. Mission accomplished. I drift off to sleep on a cloud of post-orgasm embers while Goliath next to me never so much as stirred.