I’m imagining you

I wonder what your lips would feel like, pressed against mine.  Would you be sweet and gentle or would the kiss awaken that rougher, more brazen side of you?  Perhaps you would start to kiss me slowly, hesitantly, until you knew I wouldn’t run away.  Then you’d hold back no longer.  I imagine you grabbing a fist full of my hair as our tongues intertwine.  You know you’ve chosen the right path when you hear the soft moans escaping from my throat.  You know what a girl likes.

The fantasy that often gets replayed in my head is of me, topless, kissing another topless girl.  Will you indulge me, I wonder?  I see my hands tracing the lines of your body – along your spine, over your hips, at your lower back.  So soft but also so strong.  I’m greedy and cannot keep myself from touching your breasts.  As we kiss I roll your nipples between my fingers.  I pay close attention, noting which amount of pressure elicits the most moans of approval.  I might be greedy but I try not to be selfish.

Speaking of those nipples…  I want to circle my tongue around them.  Suck on them.  Gently bite them, if you’ll let me, as I run my hand between your legs (I’m anxious to see if you’re as wet as I am.  In due time…).  Now I understand why men are so fascinated with breasts.  They’re irresistible and I cannot keep my hands off yours.  I want you to touch me but, at this point, I’m so lost in exploring and enjoying you that I’ve all but forgotten that perhaps you want in on the action.

What would it be like to snake my hand down your leg, aching to get in your pants?  I’m tingling just thinking about it.  Would I know what to do when my fingers finally made their way to your pussy?  Or would I be so overwhelmed with the situation that I’d stumble around, like someone learning to play an instrument?  I’m closing my eyes and picturing sliding my finger slowly inside you.  You are as wet as I surely am.  Your back arches towards me and I let my thumb find its way to your clit.  I want to make you come.  Then your fingers find me.  I know you could make me come.

Then I see us lost in crazed kisses, hungrily devouring each other, until we’re both shaking from the orgasms that were a given the moment you walked in my door.  After recovering from the bliss, I’d likely laugh and cover my eyes, suddenly shy after this intense moment.  I think you’d do something charming, perhaps giving me another lingering kiss to settle my nerves, because you’re just that perfect.  A delightful mixture of sexy and sweet, smart and sassy.

That’s where this little fantasy of you fades, as I drag myself back to reality.  Bits and pieces of it are sure to replay themselves in my head throughout the day, as I go about my normal business.  You love that, don’t you?  That underneath my good-girl exterior I can be the bad girl that dreams about kissing you.  Well, I do think about that, when I’m imagining you.