Tag Archives: wicked wednesday

I want a hologram of you when you can’t be with me
A life-sized, fleshed out form….
With eyes that follow me…
Body turning when I turn…
Visible desire as I disrobe…
And your erection so hard, watching as I touch myself…

I reach out to feel you
But my hand passes through your image
And you shimmer, flickering in the dark room….

I don’t want to be alone.

 

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I don’t have any tattoos. I’ve always wanted one or two, but I still haven’t braved it under the needle. I’d want to get one where no one would see it unless I was naked – most likely on my back – either a “tramp stamp” or a more all-over design. My preference would be for butterflies, like this one or this one.

 

 

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The walls of my bedroom are thin
and I imagine you with your ear pressed against the wall
having heard my door slam,
waiting to satisfy your need.

Can you hear
The soft rustle of my silk shirt as it
Slides from my shoulders and hits the floor?
The soft whoosh as I pull down the zipper of my jeans
then wiggle out of them and leave them in a pile at my feet?
The gentle pad of my feet across the plush carpet?
The creak of my bed as I climb atop it?

What do you see in your mind
as you listen to my rustling
and hear the buzzing of my vibrator,
the sound rising and fading as I thrust it inside myself,
my wetness drenching the sheets?

Is your cock hard in your hand as you stroke to my moaning,
imagining that it is you thrusting hard inside me
while I rub my clit?

Do you stifle your cry as you cum,
plastering the wall with your seed
as you hear my cries as I climax
before I fall back in satisfaction against my pillow?

As I lie sleepy and satisfied, I wonder how much you overhear
night after night, and if you sleep as soundly afterwards as I do.

 

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