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You play with my imagination . . edging my reality . . the sight of your shiny pussy lips covered with your flowing juices reveal a fantasy’s promise . . . a dream movie . . . Can cum shoot ten feet? . . . Can cum cover a screen? . . . Can the simple sight of your luscious lips and the view of your breasts make me hard with anticipation? You move the camera to your pussy covered in your joy juice . . . and I throb with sensory memories my cock engorged . . long . . thick . . and my own lips wanting your most sensitive lips . . to lick, kiss, suck, nibble . . . When I have cleaned you it won’t be over. I want you to know the want of waiting . . . to become so wet again with arousal it flows with your need . . . and so my fingertips slide your skin . . . close but never touching your most intimate bits . . . those centers of sensation that send heat flashes through you . . . that send tingles to harden nipples and swell your clit . . . I want my own sensate revenge for your sexy teases . . . tie you to the bed . . . bring all manner of touches . . . vibes . . . dildos . . . feathers . . . each new touch a revelation . . . an tactile embrace that slips away just before the kiss . . . . I want your body to thrash in want . . . to finally convulse in pleasures not found before . . . to gush with cum . . . The French call it "La petite mort." . . . The little death of orgasm . . . the orgasm so strong that when it ends you become lifeless in your response your body no longer your own . . . . this is what I want for you . . . . then I will finally be able to fill you with my own release . . . with my own river of cum . . . a raging flood . . . . overflowing . . . . your pics . . your naked tease inspires me . . . . Now if you don't mind I must stop this writing . . . invite my mind magic mimes and masturbate to my many thoughts of you . . . .