Static. Chemistry.
You brush my hair back from my face, stroke my cheek and ear. You love to touch me. Any part of me. And I love the way you touch me, how electric it feels when your hand caresses mine. The sparks you create when you brush it in between my legs. It feels like lighting when you touch my clit and makes me shudder in ecstasy.
I do love the way that you fill me up. When I feel you thrusting inside of me it turns me on more, makes me wetter. Our shared sweat, breath, limbs- the feeling of your body pressed up against me, trying to get as close to me as physically possible without being me, is intoxicating.
I feel your nipples roll around in between my fingers. You groan as I begin to pinch them, asking me for more. You pull my lips to yours as two hungry mouths try to swallow each other.
You lean in and whisper to me, telling me how much you've always wanted me from the moment we met. How this entanglement of limbs is what you've wanted for so long. That you think naughty thoughts about me in all sorts of places. About the time you saw me bend over when was moving some boxes and how all you wanted to do was bend me over those boxes, pull down my shorts and panties and take me right there.
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