They come in flashes of brilliant light. The things I want to do to you, want to watch have done to you. What I want you do to do me.
Brief gasps and moans. A flash of wet lips. The caress of a gentle hand. The hard pinch of a nipple.
The things I'd say. Could I? Would I unleash it all and articulate the things my brain screams out in brief fantasy? Whispered entreaties. Demands. Would I say what's on the tip of my tongue or would I lick you instead, rubbing my words down your neck?
Straps on arms. Wrists bound. Mine or yours?
Wet. So wet. Hard. Trembling muscles. The fire on my thighs. Or yours?
Would I? If I could? Would you?
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