thoughts that whisper

Sometimes I overthink too much.
I get lost in the side tracks of my thoughts.
Wandering.
I love thoughts that whisper.
Not thinking out loud,
but inside my head, softly. As if it was real.
Let those same thoughts be carried away by the wind. What I love so much. Unstoppable. Pure.
As is my love.
As is my sex.
I would have them carried away to you.
Let them go (with you) on a journey, far far away.
So that you won’t forget me.
That you miss me.
That you feel as you once felt. For me.
I would add my smile, you know, that special delicious smile, which is sweet but just as naughty.
I would let my thoughts whisper how much I would like to see you.
How much I love your lips, your mouth, your tongue.
How I think of your body and your powerful arms. Around me.
That I sometimes hide in your safe place, giving kisses in your neck.
Where I smell your scent, that scent that makes everything all right.
I would like to let you know how horny it is when I feel your stiff cock against me.
As if he’s knocking against my belly, to check if everything inside is still fluttering and tickling. Or because he wants to go inside, be in me. Now.
I would let my thoughts go and do it. Everything. To you. With you. In every possible way.
I would do myself if I see that in front of me and relive you and again and again and send a touch of my scent, when my thoughts go on, to you.
I know you would feel me if I did.
I believe that you recognize me, retrieve it from a far away memory, so intensely. That you’ll get so so fucking hard.
I know you see me in front of you, how I do that.
Naked in my old classic Chesterfield chair, I look outside and masturbate and let my thoughts whisper, lose control, let go of any burden and when I come, it’s not just my thoughts that whisper.
I am also whispering, it is your name.

N/A

All artwork by Puck Rietveld