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Missing You

It's late, I'm alone, and I'm missing you.

By Aspiring AuthorPublished 2 years ago 21 min read
1
Missing You
Photo by Benjamin Davies on Unsplash

I’m in bed tonight, but I am not alone. The man beside me, as you know, means nothing to me anymore, not like you do. You are the one my heart desires, the one soul my needs, the one my body craves. My mind wanders to our last exchange… how sensual it was without saying much.

I’m longing for your touch tonight, and in the darkness of the early morning, I find that I miss you. A thousand miles separate us—the loneliness is crushing. I reach for my phone and open my messaging app, and as I read your words, my hands roam over my body. In my mind, my hands are yours—exploring, touching, feeling. My eyes gaze at our conversation, and mid-sentence, I close them.

“I look into your eyes and stroke your cheek before I kiss your sweet mouth.”

Damn! I want to feel your lips on mine. I need to taste your honey-sweet kisses, to feel your warm breath on my face. I want to gaze into your eyes and see the love you have written.

“My hands roam down to your tits—my fingers roll your nips between them. Do you like that, baby?”

Oh, fuck yes, I like that. I find my own fingers touching them, mimicking your words. But tonight, they’re your fingers.

“You feel my rock hard cock poking you, prodding you. But I’m going to eat that sweet, succulent pussy first.”

My body twitches as I re-read the words.

“My hands are on your hips, my beard tickles you as I kiss downward toward your mound.”

Oh, damn… my fingers retrace your steps, and I’m not surprised to find an enormous amount of heat emanating from my core. You make me so damned hot without even a touch or a kiss. Imagine if we were together now…

“My tongue searches your folds for the coveted treasure, the Pink Pearl of Pleasure.”

Gasp…

“With my tongue, I flick and lick it, two fingers buried deep inside you.”

My fingers find my clit and they copy your words. Where’s that damned toy when I need it? Oh, yeah… it’s by my computer, still charging from our earlier tryst. I can’t believe how horny I am with you. Don’t you know how much I need you? My gosh, we’d never stop fucking each other if we ever got together.

Next to me, I feel him stir and I freeze—my breath is quick, and I’m so turned on it isn’t funny. But when he settles down and his soft snores reverb off the walls, I’m peering at my phone again, searching for your next words. I so want them to be true, to be real. My fingers resume their position. I’m on my back, my knees bent, and I’ve allowed them to fall apart. I imagine your hands on my thighs, pressing them down into the mattress while you explore my hot, needy sex with your tongue. The bush of your beard and mustache is incredible on my skin—I can almost feel it. I close my eyes and let the fantasy take me.

My fingers trace circles around my clit, just like you said your tongue would do. But then I get a strange sensation. Is that… a tongue? Your mouth? I open my mouth to speak, but yours covers it in a sweet, passionate kiss.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” you whisper in my ear just before you nibble on the soft skin just beneath it. A quiet sigh escapes my lips. My hands reach for your face. Is this real? Another kiss, and I’m certain. It is you.

“How did—”

“Shh, sweetie,” you say. “There’s no time for talking now that we’re together. Just let me love you. I need you so.” Your lips touch my neck and I feel my skin rise in goosebumps, a soft moan of pleasure in the air. You know it’s my most sensitive spot, and you waste no time kissing it. I feel your lips part and the soft, wet warmth of your tongue is on my skin. Baby, it feels amazing. You’re gently sucking my neck when I feel something pinch… Did you just nibble me? My breath hitches a little at the sensation, a soft whimper and your name on my lips.

You take my hands in yours. In your eyes, I see an almost naughty sparkle. “How would you like it if I did this?” you ask. I feel something cool, somewhat rigid, but soft. I smell… leather? Oh, my… I think as you finish fastening the buckle around one wrist. I swallow hard when you do the same with my other wrist. Next is the soft ‘clink’ of a tether that fastens them to the headboard, one that will hold my hands spread apart over my head. You remembered that my left shoulder gives me fits when it’s right over my head. That’s one of many things I love about you. You’re so thoughtful.

“You know how I’ll like this—”

“Tell me!” you command. “I want to hear those words from your mouth, and I want to hear them now!”

Your harsh demand catches me off-guard, and I’m unsettled. What happened to the ‘let me love you’ man that was here seconds ago? “You know—” I can’t finish my thought. You grab my face; your thumb and fingers are on my jaw, and I admit, it hurts! Though you’ve never gotten rough with me before, it’s clear why you had me speak the words. You are at the ready, a ball gag in your hand, waiting for me to make the “o” with my mouth… the perfect opportunity to fit the ball into it. Another second and it’s fastened in place. You only break character long enough to lean in and whisper, “Are you doing okay, sweetheart?” I stare wide-eyed into yours and I nod, because it’s all I can do.

This was something we’ve discussed at length, but I never dreamed you’d do it, and never without asking me first. You must see anticipation in my eyes, because I see you smile.

“Nope,” you say with determination. “Still not enough.” You reach into your nightstand and pull out a red satin blindfold, which you tie around my eyes. I feel you rise from the bed and though I can’t see what you’re doing, I can almost feel you surveying me, taking in the beauty you’ve created. “Perfect,” you growl at me. I feel your warm, wet mouth on my fingers, licking the honey I had on them.

Right now, I’m helpless—blind, mute, and restrained, with no hope of getting away. If anyone else had me in this position, you know it would frighten me. But you also know I trust you, even without a safe word, not that I could utter it, anyway. I don’t know what you’re doing, what you’re planning, or how long it will last. What I am certain of is that I will love it.

I squirm on the bed, aroused and nervous. What are you doing? I wonder. I tug on the restraints and find them to be strong and unbreakable. After a few moments in my predicament, I hear you chuckle.

“What’s wrong, babyluv?” The question makes you laugh harder. You know I can’t answer you. The only noises I can make are non-verbal. Whimpers. Moans. Groans of delicious pleasure, all waiting for you to release them. Precisely what you wanted.

You had clothes on the last time I saw you. Do you still? I don’t know. You’re not making a peep, and you’re damned good at keeping me guessing where you are. The first sensation I feel is a soft, wet kiss on my neck. You’re picking up right where you left off. But I don’t feel you on the bed with me. I pull on my restraints a bit. It’s a movement that I would imagine makes you smile. I grunt in frustration. But I realize your plan—you’re helping me to experience one of my greatest fantasies. You intend to fulfill it in every way possible.

When you pull away from my skin, I feel the moisture your kisses left behind. After what feels like an eternity, I think I feel something soft, almost ticklish on my breasts and tummy. Is that a feather? I can’t discern what it is, only that it feels sensuous on my skin.

Over and over, you stroke my skin with this delicate object. I feel it on my cheek and taste something sweet. I know that flavor; it’s the honey dust I keep on my nightstand to use before bed. It’s edible and sweet, perfect for feather play. You observe what the light touch does to me. My nipples harden with arousal, which is, unto itself, a feat. There are chill bumps on my skin; shivers of raw pleasure run down my spine. I give you the first of many whimpers to come.

“I almost forgot,” you say. There’s something stiff but soft, unforgiving but not uncomfortable, on the skin of my foot. I sense that you’re buckling a cuff around my ankle, and then the other one. You force my legs apart and fasten a spreader bar between my feet. At least, that’s what I think you’re doing. Whether they’re tethered to the bed, or separated by a bar, there is no give either way. “This should help me achieve my goals with very little pushback from you, don’t you think?” Again, I hear you chuckle. You know I can’t answer you, and this amuses you to no end.

I hear two clicks that seem about six feet from my head. I recognize the sound, but I can’t place it. You retrieve something off my nightstand; I hear you type on a keypad, and then telltale clicks of you navigating an app. The next thing I sense is something cold, but soft. I recognize the sensation right away—my new, app-controlled toy. You’re wrapping something around my right thigh… your belt? I can tell it’s leather from the texture of it, but that’s it. Could you get it any closer to my pussy without touching it? I wonder. But then I figure out its purpose when I feel you slide my toy inside the belt, held to my body in just the right spot. The next thing I feel is my favorite pre-made program as it starts, the one called, “Edge.”

“I’ll be in the living room, sweetheart. Just call me if you need me.” Again, you laugh to yourself. “Don’t enjoy this too much.” You kiss my cheek and caress it before I hear you walk away, open and close our bedroom door.

The program you chose is my favorite one for a reason. It never gives me enough stimulation on its own for me to orgasm, but it’s a damned good warm up. This must be what you’re thinking. One of my greatest fantasies is to be tied up and teased until I am delirious with passion for you. It feeds into my submissive side, the one you promised you’d let me explore with you with no commitment and no strings.

My toy is a ‘clit sucker’, one that mimics the sensations of oral sex using pulses of air. This toy has two functions; one is the sucking sensation and the other a vibration. Their motors operate independently of each other, allowing the app-user, and his or her intended target, a customizable experience. Whoever made this program has the tease down to an exact science. My whimpers of pleasure grow into moans, then grunts of frustration each time the app slows. The air pulses feel incredible, though the vibration isn’t doing much for me. I recognize when the program loops. Each one runs a second over eight minutes. I count four starts before I feel that delicious desperation settling in.

What I don’t realize is that you never left the bedroom. Instead, you’re sitting in the chair by the dresser, watching me writhe in pleasure and grunt in frustration as the toy teases me without mercy. You watch my hands pull against my bonds, my hips wiggle to get more from the toy than you ever meant it to deliver. You watch my pussy throb with each denial. Yes, you have the best seat in the house—a front-row, center stage view to the best show on Earth.

On the sixth start, I hear the door open and close. I hear your breath, quick and shallow, and to your credit, you’re doing your best to hide your obvious arousal from me. I know you’re not finished with me. Not yet. The app shuts the toy down, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Not because I was close to orgasm. No, it was just the opposite—I never got close. But I feel the constant wetness that flows in rivulets from my aching sex. You undo the belt from around my leg; I notice the toy’s sudden absence and miss its warmth. I didn’t realize the heat it had generated during its operation.

The next thing I feel is your hands removing the spreader bar from between my feet. I feel you crawl onto the bed and settle yourself between my legs, and then your tongue, lapping at my ‘pussy wine’, as you call it. “Oh, sweetie,” you groan, “you’re tasting so good tonight. Mild, sweet, that hint of honeysuckle you know I love. I hope you’re ready to cum, babyluv.”

I feel the flat of your tongue pressed against me, starting at my ass and working your way, slow and hot, to the center of my femininity. A loud moan sneaks past the ball between my teeth, and you stop for a moment. “I forgot about that,” you mutter. I guess you didn’t want to leave your post, but I feel you crawl up to my head. Your fingers unfasten the gag, and I take my first deep breath.

“Oh my gosh, babe!” The sharp breath startles me. I didn’t realize I’d be so loud.

“Oh, I’m not even close to finished with you.” Your mouth covers mine and I taste my sweet wetness on your tongue. “You like how you taste, sweetheart? You wouldn’t believe how much honey you’ve made.”

“Oh, I believe it,” I pant. “I feel it dripping from me. Babe, you are driving me out of my mind.”

“Good.” I feel one last kiss on my mouth, and then you cover my body in wet, sloppy kisses on your journey back down to your ultimate prize. Your lips and tongue cover me in your saliva, but it isn’t the coolness of the night air that makes me shiver. “Are you chilly?” you ask.

“Not really,” I say. “The goosebumps aren’t because I’m cold.”

Your warm breath on my lips feels incredible when you reach your destination. I feel your fingers spread them open, your tongue lapping at the moisture that’s dripping out of my body. I feel your voice and its vibration, which sends more shivers down my spine. The pleasure is exquisite, but it’s not enough. My instinct tells me there is much more teasing headed my way. How far you’re willing to take me is a mystery.

Your tongue runs the length of my slit, and when it finds the pearl at the very top, my body moves with an involuntary jerk. You shove your hands up under my hips and grip them with your fingers, spreading me wide open for you. I feel your tongue licking circles around my clit, varying with pressure and speed. And then you draw it into your mouth and suckle on it, your tongue undulates around it. My back arches and my arms pull strong against the bonds. A long, drawn-out groan hisses from my lips. The pleasure is divine. A sharp inhalation, and another moan floats in the room. You hold my sensitive nub between your lips and tease it with your tongue in soft, fast, flicking motions. Another powerful tug at my bonds—a louder moan hangs over my body and echoes through the bedroom.

You release my hip on the right side, and I feel you touch me before you slide two fingers inside me. Another sudden inhalation comes, and I hold my breath. If I let it out, I know I’ll scream. My hips rise to meet your fingers’ inward strokes, my body grinds into your face. I need so much more than you’ll give me. Before long, the internal and external stimulation has me on the brink. You sense this and pull away. When your fingers leave my body, the wetness makes a sucking sound, and then I hear you licking something. I presume it’s your fingers, because I hear you smack your lips.

You return to the task at hand. I feel the pulsing of my muscles, and I know you see it. My pussy feels like an aching black hole—I need you to fuck me, but I know you won’t until I’m ready. By my estimate, you’ll bring me to the edge several more times before you allow my orgasm. That, my sweet love, is fine with me.

I feel the scruff of your goatee on my skin for a split second before I feel your lips around my clit. As you did before, you suck it between your lips and flick it with your tongue. I don’t recognize the noise that I hear. I know it has to be me, because your mouth is busy. It sure didn’t sound like my voice, though. In mere seconds, you have me panting—I tug on my bonds again, but the same as before, I’m held fast to the bed. My body tingles with electricity, the pleasure is almost overwhelming my senses.

Another good, strong suck and I’m on the edge. You feel my breath change—my clit, I’m guessing, is rock hard. One last flick for good measure and you pull away again. Another disappointed moan leaves my mouth, and you laugh.

“Had enough yet?”

“Have I begged you yet?”

“Point taken,” you say. “Be careful what you wish for. I can be harsh.”

Confidence fills me. I’ve been much further than this on my own. “I know what I’m wishing for, babe.”

“If you’re sure…”

“One hundred percent, love.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You return to your task, but this time the intensity is overwhelming. Your flicking is faster, harder, and I yelp.

“Gah! Too much!” My protest falls on deaf ears.

I try to pull away from you, but you hold tight to my hips. You draw my clit into your mouth and suckle it, as if trying to draw milk from a nipple. A long, loud, drawn-out moan builds up in my chest and leaves my mouth. “Oh, FUCK!” I almost scream as you let my pearl pop out of your mouth. You’re back to licking, flicking—your teasing is a little more gentle now, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m close to the edge. You realize this. You know how much I can take. And you stop seconds before you pull me over the edge.

Your sweet kisses on my lips feel amazing as I come down from the brink. “What about now?” you ask.

“I’m ready to cum, babe.” I feel another drop of wetness dribble out of my body. You must see it, because before it gets too far, I feel your tongue lapping at me.

“I don’t hear you begging,” you say. “How much do you want it?”

“I need to cum bad, love. So bad.”

“Nope, you’re not ready yet.”

Oh shit. What did I just do to myself?

The same as before, you continue your journey, seeking a slow, torturous build up with a denial at the end. Seven more times, you bring me to the edge with just a few minutes of cooldown between them. Each time you do, my cries, my pleas, get more desperate.

On the eighth time, I can’t take anymore. My body shakes from the stimulation and deprivation of release. When you pull away, I am close to tears. And when I beg you for my orgasm, that sweet release I need, you hear the desperation in my voice.

“Please,” I cry, “please let me cum this time. I’ll do anything you ask. Anything you want, it’s yours. I’m begging you, please…” my raspy voice fades to nothingness. My chest heaves with a sob.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Fuck me hard,” is my simple answer.

You unbuckle my restraints from the bed and I take the blindfold away to see you staring into my eyes. You kiss me harder than you ever have and pull my hips to you. I see your unmistakable hard-on, and I bite my lip. “I see you looking at my stiff cock. Do you want that, sweetheart?”

“You bet your cute little ass I do. Please fuck me until I beg you to stop. I want to cum all over that beautiful shaft. Feed my pussy with your hot jizz, babe. Oh fuck, how I love you!”

My dirty talk was the reaction you desired, the level of heightened arousal you wanted. You push my knees open with yours, and you take me. I feel you, rock hard inside me, and it makes me cum on the spot. Your name is on my lips, and I scream it loud and more than once as I cum hard. I grip you so tight that all you can do is wait for it to end. But as soon as it does, you make good on your promise. A torrent of filthy talk streams from your mouth. The more you say, the more outrageous your words, the more it turns me on, and I love it. To your great surprise, I match you, word for word. You’re thrusting into me so hard, your balls slap my ass with each push. I feel myself working up to another massive orgasm, and I can’t breathe.

“Fuck yes!” I scream. Your hard thrusts yank me over the edge. The pleasure is delicious, as wave after wave of spasms rock my body. I had no idea sex could be this glorious! When they stop and you can move, you shift positions again. This time, you find my pink bud and circle it with your thumb.

“This time, baby, let’s cum together.” I know it won’t take long with your extra ministrations, but I’m so out of breath, all I can do is nod. My ass rests against you, your left arm is around my leg for leverage; your right thumb works my clit as you fuck me hard, fast, and deep. There’s a tingle deep in my gut, the one that tells me it’s going to be an intense orgasm. I reach for the hand on my leg and squeeze it.

“I’m… gonna… cum… babe…” I growl. You need to have enough time. But you need no more prep—you’ve been holding back for me, waiting for my signal.

“Me too!” A couple more hard thrusts and my muscles tremble. “Oh fuck! Baby, I’m cumming!” you grunt.

“Inside me!” I squeal, and then I scream as I join your climax. I feel my pussy contract around you; you’re still thrusting until I feel the torrent of cum you unleash. It’s the best feeling in the world, cumming with you, feeling your hot, sticky seed like a flood inside of me. You push until you can’t anymore, and you collapse, breathless, on top of me. A warm, peaceful calm washes over us. I feel your soft kisses on my face, your whispered words of love in my ears…

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“Baby?” You touch my shoulder and I awaken. “Are you okay?”

I open my eyes and gaze around the room. It’s 4:37 AM according to my phone, which is laying on my nightstand. I am trying so hard to focus on your face that you laugh at my expression. “Yeah,” I yawn. “I’m fine.”

You chuckle and kiss me. “I’ve never heard you moan like that in your sleep. You’re either in pain, or you had a sexy dream. So, which is it?” You kiss me again.

I think of the dream, and a smile crosses my face. “I had one hell of a dream,” I say to you and return your hungry kisses. “It was you and me before we got together. It felt real, you know?” Your naughty smile tells me you do, in fact, know all about it.

“Care to share it?” you ask, hopeful for a juicy description. Your eyes shift down to my ass, where a pool of moisture has collected. You lick your lips in anticipation, hoping…

I reach for you, pull you close, and give you the most passionate kiss I can muster. “I’d much rather show you.”

------

Originally published on Literotica, April 8, 2021, entitled Sexual Healing Part Two - Her. I am the original author; reprinted here with my permission.

erotic
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About the Creator

Aspiring Author

Hello there! I am an aspiring Indie author editing my first novel in the romance genre. I also write and manage two blogs. I have been married for 24 years, and we have two precious cats.

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