I have been thinking about this afternoon since I left you, scooting home with you in my mind, still incredibly wet, with snippets whipping around my head, I can’t even grasp them or make sense of any of them, they just whirl around like a porn reel and I wish I could record and keep it all to replay you again in pain with a knife against your cock (your cock, that belongs to me, my cock), torture against your nipples, your laugh, both small and shy and louder and open, that humming moan that I so love, you saying Ma’am to me and how easily it falls out of your mouth, your breath in my ear, getting heavy and low, your gagging and that silence that precedes it, those silly conversations in there that I adore, your cock, my cock getting hard when I talk ‘that way’ to you, soft and low, your asking please, please please, my panties being there with you and on you even now while you are sleeping, my wetness on your lips and on your tongue and how you sound, how you sound, how you sound when your breathing gets, like my cock, heavy and hard and every breath is a lurch that goes straight to my cunt, and I feel like I have already forgotten what that sounds like, when you talk to me and react to me, and you echoing my counting of strokes or hits between your soft moaning breaths, all of it in my head like a tumultuous storm all loud and stunning and there it stays even after I come and I want to come again over it and feel like it is disappearing already.

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