If She Could Be Here

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He would share this experience.
765 words
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WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,917 Followers

What would it be like if she could be here with me?

This may not be a luxury hotel, but it is good enough for me. In fact, this hotel room is larger and better than my tiny studio apartment; all this hotel room lacks is the storage space. Yet something is missing, something which has gnawed at me throughout this long, long weekend:

...someone with whom I can share this experience.

To my mind, she seems to be the natural choice, the one with whom I had shared so much previously. We had shared thoughts, dreams, opinions, and even ourselves. We had explored a realm she had previously only imagined, and her introduction caused us both to grow.

She seems to indeed be the natural choice.

As I sit at the table in the main room, I can easily envision her sitting across from me, or leaning back in the more comfortable cushioned chair nearest the door to the tiny patio, chatting quietly with me about this foreign country, this indescribable city. I would love to know what she thinks about this place, about this world which one cannot truly imagine prior to coming here for a personal view.

I can almost see her curled into a ball on the small cushioned couch near the television, mimicking a sleeping pet. That is a vision which would definitely be worthy of capturing on film, of using as a wallpaper for my personal desktop computer back in my too-tiny studio apartment on the other side of the planet.

Late at night, would she perform for me, dancing to her favorite music played from iTunes on a laptop as she tempted me with skimpy lingerie? Would she finally cross the small room and take me by the hand, hauling me up from my seat to join her in a dance so suggestive that the Pope would faint if he were to witness it?

Perhaps at some point, we would engage in one of our favorite activities: ice play. Standing in the shower, the warm water cascading over us both, I can almost feel her arms around me and her body shuddering as I tease her clitoris with a large cube of frozen water before moving it lower and deftly slipping it deep into her body. How I long to hear her soft moans and cries as more and more ice is pushed deep inside her, providing a powerful counterpoint to the water befalling her. While she gains the most physical enjoyment from such play, I gain a deep enjoyment as well, an emotional connection with her which is magnified by her every sound, her every motion, and the far-off dreamy expression in her eyes as she silently pleads for more.

I can almost feel her sitting in my lap as I sit at the table, our arms snug around each other, our lips occasionally joining in a kiss as we chat quietly, the continual hum of the ceiling fan louder than our own voices yet consciously forgotten as we enjoy the simple pleasure of a quiet conversation.

Would she share a twin bed with me, or would she prefer to sleep in the second twin bed? Of course, with two beds in the hotel room, we could use one bed for sleeping and one bed for ice play and for lovemaking.

At some point, I am certain that we would both be in the kitchen, wearing only our underwear – if that – as I prepared dinner for us. Perhaps I would be preparing dinner while she crawled around as instructed, the well-weighted clamps swaying beneath her and tugging painfully at her taut nipples, a large bunny tail anal plug filling her and working in conjunction with a rabbit ears headband to transform her into her namesake.

I can almost see her, kneeling at one end of the coffee table, bent forward, several lengths of thick tope binding her into position, a penis gag filling her small mouth, a pair of vibrating eggs inert inside her. As I work on my laptop at the table, she tests her bonds, bearing down on the metal objects within her body, pressing her clitoris into the edge of the coffee table to derive what pleasure she can as I continue to work, pleading with her eyes and finally moaning with relief as I turn on the power to the eggs within her, returning to my work and allowing her to enjoy the simmering arousal and the tight restraint.

If she could be here, would any of this become reality?

WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,917 Followers
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duddle146duddle146over 17 years ago
Clever Plot!

What an effective literary device is the word "if." This writer makes use of the 'what if' principle to it's fullest extent to weave a very erotic story. Wonderful Write!

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