there are countless moments of my day where i’m distracted by thoughts of you.
i can’t get my head straight.
and there are the dreams, oh, the dreams i have of you. of us. doing amazing things.
last night, i dreamt of touching you. your cunt was slick and my fingers invaded, invaded, invaded you with a seemingly musical rhythm. this time, your husband was not watching us. i was mesmerised and intoxicated, and i woke up with the usual hard on, and the memory of the sound of your whimpering orgasm.
i rolled over and found respite here in my own bed. temporary respite – as I write this i’m hard again. come to me. please, come to me now.