# This piece is about longing. The story that never happened. The most
romantic stories are the ones we almost had, the ones we couldn’t
have, the ones we missed, and that leaves the room to imagine what
they could be like.
This story is a dedication to what never happened, and I believe there
are so much love behind the love making, the emotional connection is
implicit: as the story communicates a physical desire to be close and
intimate with another being.
Too bad, we live so far away, in two cities that are worlds apart.
Too bad, your life is promised to be spent with another, your heart
wonders sometimes but it goes home to her.
Too bad, we couldn’t engage in all the devious acts I’d love to invite
you to. The romantic, the sinful, the passionate. The exciting, the
hidden, the twisted.
I imagine riding your cock, in front of a burning fire, inside a log
cabin, on top of a fluffy white sheepskin. Snow falling over pine
cones, chestnuts roasting in the fire. My sweat dripping onto your
nipples, so hard, so masculine, so breath-taking to watch.
Or perhaps we can get away to a secluded hot spring. After hours of
hiking we can’t wait to strip all our clothes off, and soak our tired
body inside the steamy liquid that nourishes our tired souls. I’d put
my legs over your hips, feeling your cock bumping against my flower
center. I want to tease you, yes I do. I’d give you that look, that
naughty “are you going to fuck me?” look, and with a roar you’d grab
me to sit on you and start pounding away into my tight, wet and eager
center of feminine strength, and take me hard while I make animalistic
roars that startles the redwood in their million year silence.
Under the stars. I want to make love to you under the stars, as you
enter me from above I can see the Big Dipper and Mercury winking at
me. Ring of Saturn, rocking boat of a winking moon, your eyes shining
in the light reflection. Yes baby, yes, I love how you fuck me like
an animal.
Or we can go back into the city. Where you’d blindfold me and cuff me
up before ravishing my body with your kiss, your hands holding onto my
wrist while you take me violently, like a naughty knight ravishing a
lost princess. Other times I imagine you are a pirate from a tall
ship sailing the Caribbean, who happily takes his fare in flesh and
desire. You love turning a shy girl into a shameless slut, shivering
under you and her body explodes into thousands of tiny pieces, and
then come back to earth to see the smirk of a man in dark eye-mask.
Too bad you live so far away, I would have loved to fuck you every day
if you are near, if you are here, if you swear — that you’d fuck me
like I have never been fucked before, until I beg for you to torture
me sweetly, and lay your claim on my body with your every breathe and
sweat.
Too bad your body is taken, because I would have loved to mark it
mine. With my teeth mark and heated scratches, with my rough kisses
and soft fingertips. Roaring next to your ear, grabbing your muscular
bum while you pump your seed deep inside my tunnel of feminine
essence. Impregnate me with your genes, so I carry little devils with
your deep-set eyes, your strong jaw line, your animal instinct to run
wild in the forest. Little devils with my fury hair, tiny feet that
travels the steepest of mountains.
Too bad really, too bad we will never have that.