This morning you gave my body the attention it so desperately craves, but instead of soothing my yearning for you, you inflamed it. I woke with a roaring need to have your beautiful face again between my thighs. I need your fingers gently teasing, and then buried deep. I need your bewitching kisses. Even bending over the bathroom counter to better apply my makeup brought echoes of you behind me, working your hand into me. I ache for your touch. I ache to let you possess me.
I delight in your body's response to me. It drives me wild that pleasing me causes you to be so wet and ready. The brief touch I got of you was not enough. The pressing urge was to push you against the door, loosen your belt, and continue pushing my fingers into you until we both were covered in your juices.
Do you know how absolutely, undeniably sexy it is when you come in a wet, hot gush against me? Every time you do I feel a perfect shock of pleasure, every time you do I just want one more.
I remember back to when you first allowed me to touch you. You seemed so concerned that I would reject you, that I would find you unattractive in some way. You still hide from harsh light, still hurry to cover yourself. One day you will understand how attractive you are to me. One day you will see how I worship every inch of your body because it's you, because you are beautiful.
Our desire for each other, our inimitable chemistry, is just one tiny drop of why we are perfect for each other, but right now my body is craving your perfect touch.