It’s both frustrating and odd, these rare moments when words fail me. It seems as though the words, they’re swimming, crawling to get out, swarming in my mind, wanting nothing more than to make their way out into the world and become words on paper, but they fail to do so.
So instead of writing, I’m just going to talk to you, like you’re here in front of me, and say all the things I want to write, if only my words would let me.
I’m sorry if that seems weird.
Can I tell you how damn sexy you are? How lucky I am, we are, to have a friend like you?
It’s been so fun, this thing we’re doing. And hot. So fucking hot. Memories pop up unexpectedly, little gifts from the recesses of my mind, and I find myself smiling stupidly, thinking about you. About us.
And M, he knows. He’ll see me, staring off into space, lost in thought and ask, with a smile, what I’m thinking about.
What am I thinking about? Christ. So many different things.
Things like the heat surrounding my fingers when they’re inside you. It’s so warm and it feels so good. And when you start bucking against me, grinding and riding it out, I just want more and want to give you more. I want to go deeper inside you, fill you fuller, stretch you tighter.
The taste of you in my mouth. Fuck. You probably don’t know this, but there were multiple times, so many times, when I was between your legs, licking your delicious pussy, and the feel of you in my mouth, your clit between my lips, the sight of you withering on the bed, thrashing… Damn, girl, it made me cum again and again. I literally had a puddle beneath me because going down on you made me squirt so many times.
And 69ing with you, it’s given me a whole new perspective into the joys of a woman’s anatomy. The sight of you, spread open above me, wet and waiting. It was seriously one of the most erotic sights I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
And although I didn’t mention anything, I was worried. I wasn’t sure I was really ready. I was afraid it would bother me, you and him, and that I wouldn’t truly be able to handle seeing him inside of you.
But I was wrong.
It’s hard to explain, but it was fucking amazing. I loved watching, tasting you between his strokes, you open and wanting. I loved guiding his cock to your pussy and watching you take him in. I’d reach down and feel where you two met, feel your wetness on his cock, feel him sliding into you, feel the tightness of your lips where you stretched around his girth.
I didn’t want it to end.
And it may sound dirty, but I have to tell you, it turns me on to lay on the sheets, lay where we fucked, where we came. Lay on the wet spot you created and remember. Remember what you felt like, on my body, on my hands, on my mouth. Remember how good your pussy tastes and how you sound when you cum. Remember what you look like, above me, below me, fucking me, fucking him.
I lay there and remember and all I want to do is touch myself and think of the dirty, dirty things I want to do to you.