Invocar

I thought of you during the first break I took in my particularly busy morning. It's like things don't stop just because of a simple quarantine. Not even the desire to have you again sharing a bed. I remembered the first cunnilingus you gave me, right after I had oiled myself all over and massaged every inch of my body while still tied to the bed with the soft ropes you got for the occasion. Relaxing massages, just what the situation called for. I remembered your tongue invading my wet sex, eager. Your full mouth tracing every fold of my lips, spreading my flows and taking me back to the third orgasm of that night. I invoked you under my sheets, with my pants half down and two fingers from my left hand inside me. How much I want you, son of a slut! How much I want! I managed to say between teeth seconds before the orgasm your memories provoked. I ended up as always when it's over: tasty, intense, with desires for more. I'm writing to tell you that today I remembered you. Yes, you. I'm sure you know that I'm talking about you. Today I remembered you. And I wish you as always.