I lay alone in the glittering night, the rain beating its soft rhythm on the glass. The tiny bit of light that normally filtered in was broken into a million shards, offset by the drops of rain. I wished she were here. Her soft skin cuddled against me, her hair sprawled across my pillow, tangling itself with mine.
I closed my eyes and listened to the rain. I thought of how she had looked the last time, so beautiful and sweet. Almost innocent, only a whisper of the naughty desires I knew she hid. The tension had permeated the air, throbbing in our ears, begging us to pay attention.
I reached down and felt the little puddle between my thighs. My skin was soft and smooth, I could feel my inner lips beginning to peek through. I breathed in the scent of my arousal, wondering what it’d be like mixed with hers.
I swirled my finger in the moisture hidden by the cleft between my lips. The pink flower of my pussy blossomed at my touch. I had to have a taste.
I licked the nectar from my fingers slowly, dreaming of how she would taste, wondering if she’d like my flavor, or if she would simply abide it. I plunged my finger back in the soft crevice. I wanted her. Craved her. Needed her? What had she done to me?
My body ached as I dreamed of her lips, kissing her softly, our tongues whispering their lustful secrets. She has the most beautiful, perfectly shaped lips. From the moment I first saw them I wanted to feel them against mine. Her eyes were alluring, gazing seductively as if the entire world was a set to her private film noir. I loved watching her, in awe, my mind spinning with erotic fantasies.
My clit had swollen beneath my touch as my fingers danced over their familiar playground. I massaged the sensitive button, trembling slightly with ecstasy. My breasts were full and heavy and my nipples stood proudly, responding to my caresses. The midnight storm carried on, unabated.