I'm thinking about you again.
Sitting next to you is erotic torture. You laugh and it makes me smile, then you look at me with those deeply soulful and knowing brown eyes, and I feel a twinge of promise that makes me squirm in my seat. I look at your fingers and hands, and imagine them holding my breasts, running a trail down my stomach to my pussy, pressing on my clit and making me cum in a flood of release. I think about your fingers pumping in and out of me while you watch my face contort with pleasure.
I stand near you and smell the pure smell of sex coming from your body. I want to touch your neck with the tip of my tongue, tasting your sweat, open my mouth and kiss you with all the pent-up frustration that I'm feeling. I want to feel you wrapped around me, gripping my ass with one hand and the hair behind my head with the other.
When we get together socially, sometimes you playfully smack my ass. With your hand, or whatever happens to be available. I wonder what you would do with me if we were alone...would you tie me up? Make me struggle? Hold me down as you lick and suck my nipples, grab my breasts, dig your fingers into my soft flesh? Would you flog me, leave marks on my body to remember you by?