Yet another week begins ... Another week done in days when I am alone ... Another week I'm trying to populate dreams you inspire me, thinking of your body against mine ... I try to dress up your envy me with caresses, gestures that I do not know you ... I try to imagine your hands, softness, shape ... I invented both firm and gentle, able to touch the curve of a breast or grabbing my hair to force my camber ... I imagine them, forming a cross on each of my breasts ...
J'invente taste in your mouth, the smell of your skin ... The smell in the hollow of the neck, where I want to put my lips ... The smell of armpits, pungent, spicy, male ... That in middle of your thighs, that of your sex, I filled my nostrils ... The smell in the palm of your kidneys ...
Moreover, the hollow of your back ... I invented it, too ... I imagine them kissing and language file ... I guess my hands that attract you to me, that you fills me stronger, far away ... I imagine moving to the rhythm of the dance that you impose on your kidneys, your pool ... This wave is different for every man ... I dream of yours ... Sometimes slow, mesmerizing, languid ... Sometimes faster, more violent, more intense ...
Your pleasure gushing, I also invented. The taste of your cum in my mouth, I'd share a kiss with you, if you wanted ... The heat of the jets on my face, my chest ... The smell of your cum on my skin ...
And the sound of your voice in the hollow of my ear ... I am not making your voice as I know, but I invent your own words ... Invent the sound of your pleasure, your gasp, your cry ...
I would invent ...
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