Imagine I’m on my way over.

Riding my bike, that big old engine rumbling, my fuel tank gripped between my thighs. The road whipping away beneath me.

I want you. I want you ready for me. So, take a long bath, and shave your soft skin smooth. Shave your sex, and with every stroke of your razor I want you to think of the delight you’ll see in my eyes when I rediscover you. I won’t know where to begin.

Slip into your new long silk gown. Doesn’t the silk and lace feel gorgeous against your skin?

Spread your fur throw across your bed. Find your favorite toys and fresh lube.

Open your jewelry box. Lift out the tray. Retrieve the cards, unthread the bow. Lay those 5 cards on the bed. And wait for me.

Choose a pair of heeled sandals and slip them on. Adding a dash of Coco would be perfect too.

Climb up on your bed and look across to your tall mirror. You look so good. Don’t you. You want me to see you like this. Don’t you?

Did you leave the front door unlocked? Or on the latch? You know I want you to.

My wheels crunch on the gravel drive. My engine cuts to silence.
Look over to your mirror. See my hazel eyes are smiling brightly, their inner light making deep intimate love with yours.

Ribbons of light threading between us. The space between us is collapsing, growing warmer. My touch is on your skin long before my hands ever reach you.

You ache to nurse me. You see through the weathered leather shell of my outer man. You see through the contradictions and complexities. You see through the framework of my physique, my skin, muscle and bone.

All the way inside, your heart reaches, to the innocence of my inner child, sensitive and so full of love. You feel my kiss on your lips. Tender and soft. Respectful and gentle. A physical expression of my asking: may I?

My hand comes to your shoulder. Calming you. My strength, my confidence. My physical desire. Transferring through the touch of my palm, the placing and the pressure, perfect for you to grow confident with wanting me.

Our mouths open. Our tongues tentatively flirt with the taste of our intimacy. The touch of you inside my mouth tingles through my spine, I’m alive with light and arousal. Your touch and taste, your scent and sensuality, you’re unlike any woman I’ve known.

My hands hold you. They journey over the silk of your gown. I’m remembering every line, the firm feel of you molding to my movement, your beauty sings to me, an instrument in my hands.

Your nipples harden beneath the rub of silk and lace. Your breasts firming, heaving with heavier breathing. My command over you is so quick. My patience crippling. I’ll not be rushed. I’ll chew on you until the last of the flavor is exhausted.

Continued…