Wicked thoughts

Do you ever think of me when I'm not around? The words still hang in the air when I hang up. My boyfriend's voice is gone, but the heat between my legs isn't. I close my eyes and picture his hard muscles, how they flex when he pulls me close. I can almost feel his grip on the back of my head, the way he guides me down onto his cock. My mouth waters at the memory. My own hand slips between my thighs, fingers tracing the same path his take when he pushes inside me. I remember how wet I get for him, how easily he slides in, and the ache builds fast. I press harder, circling my clit the way he likes to tease me. A soft moan escapes before I can catch it. My body moves on its own now, hips rocking against my hand while the filthy thoughts keep coming. Every filthy detail of him makes me wetter, makes me need it more. I bite my lip and spread my legs wider on the bed, fingers working faster, chasing the release he isn't here to give me. The wicked thoughts win every time.