Fan mail

My arousal comes quickly and powerfully when I read your words.  The ways in which you write about submission meets my fantasies well.  It turns me on to turn on others, or the one that I’m with.  I want to own that orgasm, to push you down on the bed, run my hands and my mouth slowly down your body, kneel over you and watch you as I lick your cock, pull your testicle into my mouth and suck, tongue just the very tip of you and watch your face.  I want to take cues from the way your body reacts to me.  The way your hands reach down to find my head, my blonde hair.  The way your hips reach up to find my mouth faster. This makes me wet, it makes my hips move slightly and squirm as I write this. When I am aroused, I get wet quickly. I close my eyes, trying to enjoy, envision.  I flit my tongue out of my mouth to wet my lips and often bite my bottom lip. It’s at this point that I start to think of the roles reversed.  After the above continues and you are sated (somewhat) I want you to be hungry for me.  I want to be up against the wall, with you holding my hands above my head.  I want you to slide your hands up the side of my thigh, my stockings. Your thumb touches the satin of the garter string as your other four fingers feel the sudden warmth of my skin, that sweet spot where the end of my leg meets the curve of my ass.  Leave one hand there and open me, my legs with your other hand. Look up at my face, it’s in sheer bliss, completely aroused, anticipating what’s coming next, open to you. 

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