Days without you in them are barely days at all. Almost doomed to repeat and stagnant for I want every kiss in the morning with you and every cuddle good night. I want to be your countertop lunchtime hug and mid afternoon on my knees snack. I want you to see a ping from me, and I’m not wearing anything but lipstick.
Do you think about me the way I do you? Do I haunt your every step? Are your daydreams filled with memories? My voice low on the phone then crescendos of ‘fuck fuck ohhh fuck yes baby I’m so fucking wet and filthy for you’ before a reduction of whimpers and sighs and purrs of contentment.
When I say ‘I want you’, it’s because I mean it. In every sense of the word. I want your heated lusty looks. I want your lips on mine. I want to…
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