My hand trails along my collarbone, down to sleepy nipples. They know the difference in your touch and mine. Grabbing one soft nipple, I twist viciously. I hiss in pain, but it’s not the same.
I cup the other breast, imagining the warmth of your hand, larger and firmer than my own. My fingers are smoother and thinner than yours. They cover less space. The all-encompassing warmth when you touch me is something I’ve grown used to, and I miss it.
Nipples now properly at attention, I move down to the sweet spot, the center of all that matters right now.
My legs part. Traitors both of them. They only want to be spread wide; they care not whether it is me or you parting them. I feel the tightness in muscles that have grown unaccustomed to being pulled wide. The sting in my legs sends shivers through my entire body.
Fingertips skim over sensitive skin. I quiver. I’m much gentler with my own body than you are. This is neither good nor bad, it simply is. I can feel the slow throb building in my clit as blood leaves my brain and travels south.
When you touch me, the build up takes seconds, at most. Often need arises instantly. My cunt knows the difference and finds my gentle ministrations amusing, at best.
I stroke my slit and circle my clitoris. I revel at the small petals hidden deep within. Moisture begins to pool. I grow impatient, as usual. Rubbing myself faster, circling this way and that, the friction I create does its job.
I need more.
I pinch and twist my nipple, torturing my own flesh simply to feel something more. That does it, right there. Moisture gathers in dusky pink crevices. My fingers move faster. I am betrayed by own my body as I climax, hips thrusting forward, breath catching in my throat, muscles spasming.
Falling back down to earth, finding my breath, I shake my head, knowing in my heart that I am a poor substitute for you.
Today’s the first day of my first blog tour for The Adventures of Sir and Babygirl! If you’ve got a minute, check out the fabulous bloggers who volunteered to take part!