What I Need Right Now
Is to gently wake up my sleeping boy.
Is to grind my hips into his whispering how much I need him.
Is to allow him to roll over, legs parting on instinct as he whispers; “Than take me. Use me.”
Is to finger him open, one finger at a time until he’s a trembling, leaking, fucking himself onto my fingers kind of mess.
Is to take my strap-in and let him ride me.
Is to touch him all over, in whatever way I see fit as I claim his lips.
Is to control how he rides me by holding on to his hips.
Is to scoop up his precum and coat my lips with it, not allowing him to kiss me until permission is given.
Is to hear him beg to be fed every drop he cries for me.
Is to touch the tip of my cock, making him leak even more.
Is to hear his broken warnings. I know he can cum from this.
Is to digg my fingernails into his butt cheeks as I possessively growl out whatever comes to mind.
Is to reach around to that special place where our bodies are connected and hear the intake of breath as I tease his rim.
Is to hear him moan out my name and his needs. Over and over, like a prayer.
Is to eventually grant him permission to cum and watch how my words sink in.
Is to hear, and see, and feel how my boy’s orgasm washes over him.
Is to all but have him collapse on top of me as he whispers words of gratitude against my lips.
Is to, without being prompted, have him slip off of my strap-in and kiss his way down my body, effectively cleaning me up as he goes.
Is to let him worship my soaked pussy exactly how I want it; like he’s savouring the world’s most exquisite dish.
Is to allow my babyboy to scent mark his entire body with my juices.
Is to have as many orgasms as I want before taking him back in my arms, tasting myself on his lips as we drift off, our bodies still entwined.
Is to wake up and start this all over again.
I cannot wait to have my way with you again, babyboy. I need to have my way with you again.
