I Would, You Would

Sitting here, dressed only in a little camisole and panties, I wait for you, wanting you.

If you knocked on my door right now, I would let you in.  I would guide you to my couch, sit you down, and straddle your lap.  Smiling down at you, I would softly kiss your lips.  Looking down on you gives the impression that I’m in control, but as always, I want you to drive this train.

I know you.  You would look up at me and smirk.  Your hands would cup my face, stroking my cheek.  You would pull me down to you and ravish my lips with your mouth.  Biting, nipping, sucking, my lips would be your appetizer.  Tongues would meet and duel, swirling around one another, vying for dominance.  You would win; I would let you.

Your hands would stroke my back, making their way to my ass.  Hands would squeeze and massage, cupping and cradling me.  I would grind my pelvis into yours.  You would chuckle, knowingly.  We would pull apart, breathless, and stare into each’s eyes.  I would bite my lip – you would watch me.  A hand would move towards my face, stroking my cheek, calming me immediately.  My eyes would close, and I would sigh as waves of contentment wash over me.

You would lean in and kiss my neck, my collarbone, making your way down, a wet trail made warm by your breath, making me tremble.  Your teeth would sink in, and I would feel you marking your territory.  I love it when you leave a mark, a bruise, a bite on my body.  I blush a little if someone else sees it, but I’m inordinately proud.  I always feel like it proclaims to the world that I’m yours, and you were there.

It’s been so long since I felt your hands on my body.  I would lean into you.  I would whimper as your hands move slowly over my breasts, strong, warm hands twisting my nipples.  I would lift my arms so you could remove my shirt.  I would sigh as you take a nipple into your mouth, sucking and biting.  I would cry out as pain and pleasure mix, sending my pussy into spasms.  You would move between my breasts, lavishing equal parts pleasure and discomfort to both, knowing I love it, knowing I will feel it after you’ve gone.  You are imprinted on my body.

The more you suck, lick, bite, kiss, and love my breasts and torso, the harder I would grind my pussy into your crotch, the more I would crave your cock inside of me.  I want to be filled with you.  I want to feel stretched and full.  You would make me wait.  You would whisper, “Patience, Sweets.”  I would whimper and grind, grind and whimper.  You would chuckle.  You love what you do to me, you always have.  I would be impatient and hungry for you. You would be calm and quiet, waiting patiently for the moment to send me over the edge.

I would begin to beg – for you, for something, for release.  You would kiss me, deeply and fully.  You would gently push me off of you, take my hand, and lead me to the bedroom upstairs.

I’m waiting…