I Know What You Do

I know what you do. I know you touch yourself when you read my words. You race through the sentences quickly at first, skimming, searching for the point that will make you sigh. You languish in that place. Your thoughts wrapping themselves around the picture I have painted, just as your fingers wrap around your sex.

 I know there are certain words that are a jolt to your gut. Dirty little spunk words that trip off the tongue. Words like wet and cunt, mouth and cum, ass and take. But it’s the phrases that spill from my lips that make you ache with lust. That make you want. “Cum for me baby”, begged with eager eyes. “Give it to me harder”, pleaded urgently. “Fuck my ass lover”, said as I look over my shoulder at you with big blue eyes. Those are the things that make you reach down between your legs and touch that throb.

 I know you close your eyes and imagine yourself there. Your fingertips gliding over and around all of my secret places. Our kiss, so tentative at first, so hesitant, but hunger overriding. My wet and eager mouth on you, working you into a lather. How heavy my hair feels in your hands. What my pussy must taste like on your tongue. Picturing all of these naughty things, these sights and these sounds make you crave that release.

 I know you have me on all fours, and on my knees. I know you have me in your lap grinding, and head to toe lapping at each other. I know we make love under clouds of covers, and fuck bent over the hood of a parked car. I know sometimes it is just you and I, and other times it is a tangle of others with us. I know you love me in lace and ribbon, and lust me in mesh and leather. I know sometimes it is slow and sweet, and other times it is rough and raunchy. I know it’s always a pleasure.

 I know what you do.

 But I love when you tell me anyway.