His Touch

”All I want is your lips against mine right now.” I whispered into my cellphone, quivering with desire.

My love has been away for over six weeks, some family trip, I heard. I don't know; I don't care. One thing is for sure; I miss him dearly. His sunkissed skin, his sandy blonde hair, his soft lips, his rock-hard body. Everything.

I waited in silence for a minute, hoping I didn't upset him.

“I know,” He replied, his voice husky and deep. He growls like a lion, slowly but clear enough for me to hear. “But I'm away right now.”

He never plays fair. His Alpha dominance melts me like butter; I'm slippery and ready for action.

“I can be unfair too, baby.” I chuckled mischievously into the receiver, improvising a surprise as I spoke.

I turned on my camera to show off my new lingerie; black and lacy thong, stockings, and push-up bra. Victoria's Secret never fails me. All spread out on my bed, wanting him. I don't care if I'm a slut; I enjoyed his eyes burning with lust.

“You're a bad girl, ” He growled, removing his tank top. He had assets to exploit too. “I think you need a spanking.”

I blushed furiously.

He knows what to say and when to say it. I hate it just as much as I love it.

I squirmed nervously. The memories of his firm, muscular hand on my bare ass are too much. I'm overwhelmed with his sexual nature, but I can't get enough of it.

“No,” I said slowly. “I need you inside of me.”

I slid my adventurous hand down to my most sensitive areas and began teasing. He loves a good show, especially mine. I use my free hand to cup my soft, aroused breasts. I buckled my hips against my palm swift and without mercy as I awaited his answer.

He stands up and gives me a full-body reveal. His girth is visible beneath the thin material of his boxer briefs. His size could barely be contained without my assistance, but now? I was in trouble. He quickly pulled them off, revealing his hungry beast. He laid onto his bed with his manhood at full attention.

“You asked for it, baby.” He says while running his hands across his abs and towards his mound of rigid flesh.

He began stroking up and down rapidly. His breathing became panting, then deep moaning. The beast is being satisfied as we speak. My loins are lit aflame by it.

Oh, he's good at this, an expert, in my opinion.

It brings me back to the first time we made love. A little awkward but full of passion and experimentation. Sweet kisses, roaming hands, curious fingers. As time passed, things got more intense, yet comfortable, in the bedroom.

We closed our eyes to focus on the sensations. The warmth of our skins meshing together, the soft cotton sheets beneath us, the hot, still air of our ignited lust, our tongues are dancing together inside of our lips. It was a genuinely intoxicating ritual, one for both our pleasure. Without realizing it, I increased my speed, bringing me closer to climax.

He was at his limit too, the pained look on his face revealed it. But he won't finish first; he never does.

Several minutes later, I let it all go—a vibrant explosion of release onto my damp sheets. I lay there exhausted. Shortly afterward, he finishes. We fall asleep without turning off our phones. It's a habit we both enjoy; after all, we can't relax without each other’s presence nearby.

He would be home soon, so I better be a good girl.