In my dreams I trace your lips still,
And imagine the places I'd take you each night.
But when I wake, your spot still lies cold and silent beside me.
I long to feel your skin beneath my fingers, as they travel down their natural path.
Rocky paths and wet streams at the confluence of our hips as we rise and swell with trembling tides.
I find myself making you promises and swearing by the taste of your pussy, to always leave you satisfied and yet hungry for the tsunami that is us.
Naturally, before night's end, I'd be worming my way into to you and making you scream desires you never thought you had...
Yet the magic of this all, would be in my waking hours, wet without you.
When all I want is just one more fuck with you and everyday after that.