sharing and starving

I was missing her as the sun started sinking. From my window on the 7th floor, I can see the Verazzano and the sun make its descent west. I leave the windows uncovered to watch the colors change and let the sun warm the room. Miss J called just in time to turn into the BQE and catch the lights, to bring her own softness and light to my room.

My heart was happy to see her, and light from having time with friends, and time alone. I wanted to hold her for the sunset and bring her joy. She seemed worried. We drank guinness and whiskey, held each other warmly, talked. I missed her skin, her lips. I wanted to drink them in.

We eat a bit of something and I fill the tub. Warm water, suds, baby oil, candles. The whiskey flows. I hold her, she holds me. We are face to face and touching. She is still furrowed brow and fidgeted hands. I rarely see her this way. I am at a loss. I bring her smoke and she settles for a bit, happy to let me touch her legs, feet, kissing them, stroking them, tracing their seamless seams. I reach for her sex, she is still at the wall, crossed but she needs this. I will not stop. She gets cross if I slow up the rhythm, her eyes narrowing. I want to give her this release so very much. She says don't stop and I reach deeper into her and she moans. I am not sure if she has reached climax...perhaps the water has masked the ebb I usually feel when she reaches this place. The opening of her that I usually feel didn't happen and I fret. I try not to so that she can relax. I want her. It has been almost a week without her and I am about to explode. It does not matter if anyone else has touched me. I want her touch, her hands, her kiss that reaches my inner senses, and rocks me, reels me into her.

She eats leftovers, olives, cheese, fruit. She takes her towel and lays it on the cushions and then wraps the blanket around her and lays down. I am still wanting. I reach for the oil and rub her back, shoulders. I put on music. I am at a loss. I go get books, the porn. I light a candle and read to her. Her breath falls and she is asleep. I go to the couch and read to myself. I am going to bed now. I ask her if she wants to join me and she says soon, go ahead. I go and set up my lamp to read the passages I love most. My sex moistens and my heat rises. I want her so much to touch me. I finger myself and touch my clit. I am getting heated but something is missing. I reach for the black dildo and fuck my wet cunt. I gasp and shove and push and pull and fuck myself, plunging the short thick cock in and out, leaving it there, reading and then putting the book down and my clit is swollen and I am about to cum and I shudder and throb and throb and throb. This orgasm goes on and on. It is one the longest I can remember recently. I've cum multiple times in short spans but this is intense. I am tempted to have another go but get up and wash and come back to bed to just caress and hold and try to sleep, to let go of her and give her room.

I care for her despite my selfish desire. I hold her and fall to sleep but the night is fitful and we tussle. I pull the covers, I toss, she tosses and pulls away and I do too. At one point, I am in pain and get up. I come back and only think of some way to just let go. I lay and touch softly until sleep comes back to me. Finally, as I see the dawn starting to break, I snuggle in and sleep closely until I hear the alarm. I am starving. Coffee, bacon, fruit, eggs, toasted muffins, fingertips, kisses, touch upon touch.