Absence: I'm dealing with an absence of excitement. It's rather strange. I think back to the tumultuous build up and the fizzy popping of desire in the second week of last month...(is that all, it seems an age, an absolute age ago), ...and I am still deeply somewhere else, with someone else, yet I will not back out of tomorrow. It will all be over by this time tomorrow night; I'll either be sitting here writing to appease King Kev who is bursting with excitement to read about my naughtiness, or I'll still be making it home on the motorway...heart racing with the madness of the adrenalin rush.
Don't misunderstand. I do want sex. I do want, I do need, to feel that possessive penetration and to share the pent up need and the release of constrained desire...
But I've been swamped by work and I've barely had time to even squirm when imagining a very rude snapshot of this illicit coupling or just digested a vividly naughty textual message.
We've had a candid chat.
He's definitely more excited than I am and I feel a meandering of searching and starting all afresh with a new and thorough searching of those who asked to be saved in my Inbox very soon.
Yet, I am being unfair. We've both enjoyed the sexy words; he's shown a more gentle side too, yet how is it I know this is not going to rock my world? I don't need him too, let's face it.
I need the raunchy playtime he has promised and that is something I do look forward to.
The heat
The wet
The closeness
The hardness
The filling of a space with sex noise.
I am desperately hoping I don't want to go home after my first orgasm; always a bad sign!
It's a 'me time' moment...selfishly, this is purely about me.
The dark drive home, music so loud it blocks the thought process.
He's already making sexy, naughty plans for Friday night ...when I do intend to sneak off from a rather grand event to the hotel next door...
Dressed to the nines...
Catch me whilst you can.
I've fallen through the net.
