2004-11-03

In Need—But Left Wanting

Do you know the kind of disappointment that washes over me when he says, “T has a stress test tomorrow, and I am going with her,” even though plans were already made for a morning long fuck fest? The sexual frustration that I can’t shake—the same frustration that consumes my body, sending tingles to my pussy that masturbation never relieves—is only getting worse and there is no end in sight. I want Baboo, his cock in my mouth or ramming my cunt like an overzealous schoolboy. I need his tongue on my nipples, wrapping his lips around one at a time—maybe even chewing lightly—sucking them as if sipping a straw to coax a thick milkshake through the small plastic tube, eventually finding success with the sliding of the cold, wet substance into his warm mouth. His fingers, I crave them too; fantasies flood my mind with the feeling of them jammed into the tropically humid hole below, teasing it with forceful twists of the wrist and writhing digits. The flick of his pink, saliva-coated tongue over my engorged clitoris tantalizes my imagination and ripples my cunt with damp involuntary spasms, adding more tension to the sexual frustration surging through my veins. What I want, what I really need, is the release that only my love gives me with each cock stroke, every kiss, or the slightest touch.

But I must wait, for his wife has a stress test tomorrow and my edgy, over sexualized state is not as important.

naughtylove at 2:04 a.m.

previous | next