Is that because you never left my thoughts? My reveries were of how you looked and felt in those hours we'd just spent together ~ ~ ~
The way you feel smell taste hear think shimmer is matchless. It's intriguing. Like the movement of moon upon the lake in January. Rising and falling of air so crisp and tidal you can see it and diffuse it against your burning skin. The slower I can watch you, the more pleasurable it is to feel you. I love your sounds and moans.
Senses, feasts that inhabit our eyes, and make our innermost quick relax and flow upon streams. I do it with you.
I only wish there was more time to lay you so far back you can no longer see. Your eyes open, lungs expand and arms arch backward. So far your belly gives bloom and your cock makes your hands tingle. You can't see, but you can paint shapes, any sultry shape the illusory colours of that moon.
You can, as Yusef Islam would say, "move mountains in the dark."