Dear Stranger,


    I miss the curl of your lips


    when you hold back a smile,


    I miss the spark in your eyes


    when you talk about art.


    I miss the blush on your cheeks


    akin to rapidly ripening tomato.


    I miss the laugh


    you bring out of me


    a genuine thing,


    in humor dusted dry,


    sucked sapless by society,


    I miss the acceptance in your eyes,


    a balm to my anxiety..


    I miss the days of bored nothingness,


    I miss the lack of quarrel or strife..


    I miss tracing the lines on your palm,


    seeking my proper place in your life..


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    I miss


    the us


    of our outrageous


    adventures in public,


    the playing


    the giggling


    the gasp


    and the look


    astonished


    unblinking


    excited


    as my hands unthinking


    caress your thighs,


    you biting your lips,


    with hips


    clenched tight,


    pretending modesty,


    as proper and right,


    and my hands


    keep playing


    rubbing over your lingerie


    over and over


    like clockwork,


    like clockwork,


    as I dig in


    to your core,


    dripping wet with juices,


    the aroma enticing,


    yet my hands work


    still


    unceasing,


    unceasing under the table,


    fingering,


    lingering just a moment longer,


    so daring,


    uncaring any other,


    a partition


    to cover in


    pretending


    a modicum


    of falsified normalcy,


    my teasing unruly,


    hiding in


    a corner of cafe


    familiar..


    I miss the death glare


    of embarrassment


    sent my way..


    When I teasingly lick


    my fingers anyway..


    I miss ditching the dinner


    running up the stairs,


    rushing in,


    undressing,


    beginning the storm,


    ravaging our room,


    I miss your hiss


    of sweet pain


    tremulous


    in my entering inside you,


    I miss your kiss


    of wild hot passion


    untamed,


    bereft your social grace,


    in the safety


    of me laying beside you..


    I miss the rain


    the flashes of thunder,


    the backdrop of nature


    the melody of moaning


    as I tear you asunder..


    I miss the music


    that screaming


    and begging you craft,


    I miss you licking


    mischievous,


    lavisciously my shaft,


    I miss your craving for me,


    that excitement, obsession..


    I miss your shivering


    skins shimmering


    with droplets


    of sweat


    passionate intensely


    in rhythm exertion..


    I miss your neck


    your shoulders your lips,


    your legs, your thighs,


    your mounds, your hips,


    I miss seeing


    the curves on your body


    drinking you in


    with thirst insatiable,


    licking my way down,


    playing with your breasts,


    tasting your juices,


    eating you up,


    desire so deep


    a hunger irresistible..


    But above all I miss you,


    I miss you,


    I miss you,


    I miss you for love.


    I miss our days drunken


    lusty and steamy,


    and I miss that you cannot


    you cannot


    you cannot


    you cannot forever


    be here with me..