Touch

I can't resist his touch.  Even when we're apart I long for it.  Trying to 
emulate it, I stroke my fingers down the curve of my throat.  They drift across 
my breast and circle one nipple.  I try to do it exactly the same as he does, 
but it feels different.  If it were him a moan would already be on my lips.  
I'd beg for more.  I close my eyes and imagine him there, touching me.

The excitement builds slightly and I slip the other hand between my legs.  
Probing fingers slide between damp flesh.  My breathing quickens as the fantasy 
takes over.  I feel him watching, urging me on. Fingers fucking hard, nipples 
pinched, an absent lover present.  These things drive me on faster, harder, 
towards the brink.

Release, sweet release.  Wet fingers seek out my lips and tongue.  The taste 
is only mine.  I'll have to wait another night for his, or perhaps yours.