When I wake up, I check my phone and find a photo from him, hard in his boxers this morning before work from thinking about me, from looking at the pictures I left him to find when he woke. It makes me want nothing more right that moment than to have him here. To have woken up with him near, so when he sees I'm awake, he could put a hand on my back and down my spine, till he's lazily rubbing my ass while I'm coming alive again. He'd probably ask me how I slept, if I was hungry, but it wouldn't be for food. I'd rather stay right there half on my stomach with his hands moving over and squeezing my butt, following the lines of my panties, teasing touches that bring out small whimpers and ripples down my back till I want to lift my hips to him, wanting more. Telling him with my body, asking for it. I'd love to hear his breathing increase with every closer touch, fingers tracing lightly over the fabric in the way, gently over the lines of my pussy's lips. Just thinking of it leaves my panties moist. I wonder if he'd get up to his knees and pull the blanket off me so he can see what he's touching in early morning light. Imagine him saying fuck while rubbing both hands over me and spreading me apart. Would he decide I look so good right then he needs to take some pictures, commemorate the moment he pulls my panties to the side? Say, god, your pussy's so pretty, voice husky with want? How many pictures would he take before it was too much? Would he take some of his hands spreading me for view, of his fingers teasing me? How long till he's pushed past his gentlemanly side and has to throw his phone down, yank my panties further aside, pull himself out and push into me? Till he's sliding between my lips and pushing inside me? Holding my hip in place with one hand, the other on the back of my shoulder, tight grasp, fingerprint bruises, telling me he had to right now? Trying to hold onto the mattress for sanity while he starts thrusting, no need to be soft and slow, I've been wet and impatient for it, moaning with each deep stroke, trying to reach and hold onto one of his legs while he brings me closer and closer. Would he grab my wrist and hold my arm behind my back, use it as leverage? Would he grab my ass, squeeze, hold me open so he can watch himself disappear inside me? Dig his fingernails into my skin where he's grabbing so tight, hips, waist, the sensitive never-touched skin on my back? Would he sink his teeth into my shoulder when I start coming, would he tell me how sexy I am, what a good girl I am, how fucking good I feel while I pulse and shudder and get lost in chasing my orgasm? Would he be relentless even after I've come once and am whimpering for mercy? I want to feel that overwhelming rush of lust, the flush over all my skin of sudden heat, flashes of need, uncaring what sounds I make, willing to do whatever I need to come. I want to let go of control. I want to give it to him. I want him to lose control. I want him to be so overcome when I've come on him that he doesn't hold back, that he doesn't worry about hurting me, that he takes his own climax, with my body; I want him to take his lust out on my body. I want to hear him, want to feel it inside when he comes, the heat, the twitching, nearly coming again just from the feel of his. I want to feel his heavy breathing on my sweaty skin, his forehead pressed into my back while he tries to recover. I want all of my aftershocks every time he adjusts slightly, the tiniest twitch of his cock, the pleasure that feels endless if he stroked again, just because it feels so fucking good. When I wake up with this in mind first thing, it seems like a couple weeks are way too long to wait.
