This morning I got a whiff of your scent, though you were nowhere near me. Sometimes that happens and for a brief moment, I am there with you again.
Tangled up in sheets of passion-soaked sin, sliding my hand down between your thighs, mindful that your poor little kitty just took another beating.
Nonetheless, I still press my fingers inside you to find my cum is still in there, mixed up in your wetness. My soaking fingers look too delicious for you to pass up on, so you have a second helping of our liquid remnants. The evidence of our lustful ache for one another.
I lean in to kiss your neck and that is when it happens.
That’s when – I get your scent.
Your perfume is like a bookmark in my memory, helping me come right back to this experience when I cannot have it right away. My cologne is worn for that exact same reason for you so that you can recount the vivid moments in crystal clear consciousness.
When God shines on me a whiff of you for no apparent reason, I know then, that I am meant to taste you again soon, as I will. To smell you, again. To savor you, as I do every time.
To put you on your back, lift your legs up, put my mouth right over your clit, fuck your little holes with my tongue, as I get that flavor of you I ache for.
To watch you buck and writhe while your amazing Daddy plays you like I am Mozart and you are my piano, twisting and turning while you cum over and over and I just soak up every moan in our beautiful symphony of passion.
Watching as I make you spin around inside yourself for me, soaking up every moment in your out-of-body, in-body experience.
So ache for me, as I ache for you.
Take a deep breath and try to find my scent in the air.
Keep trying, Little One. Keep trying.
Because soon, you will find it.