Story Time: Alone

It’d been yet another in a string of long days and as she stepped into the house, her only thought was, “Now what? Another night alone? I’m not sure I can do this.”
Stepping into her bedroom, she slowly stripped down until she was wearing nothing more than her bra and panties. She’d bought them with someone in mind and glancing down, it was his face, his body that sprang to the front of her brain. For a moment, her eyes were sad, remembering how they’d gone from an amazing time together to barely speaking in such a short time. Not a day had gone by without her thinking about how it had felt to have her hand tucked into his or to have his hands touching her. They had been so good together and now that they had been separated, those memories were all she had.
She curled up on the bed, closing her eyes. She had done this so often lately. She had curled up on her bed, tears streaming down her face as she remembered their time together and how almost immediately after, he had pulled back. Today, however, was different. Today, she only wanted to remember the feel of his hands and the sound of his voice. Before they’d ever come together in person, they had spent weeks winding each other up and listening to the sounds that they both made together. It was in this dreamland that she found herself caught as she laid on the bed, the wind from outside her window caressing across her near naked body.
Her hands wandered of their own accord as she thought back over the times they had shared together on the phone. In her mind, she could see him there, lying on the couch like he had so many times. She could see his hand wandering over his own body. A soft whimper escaped her lips as her memories merged and she remembered the feeling of his lips on her breasts, teasing and sucking her nipples. She could feel his hair beneath her fingers as she buried her hands in its depths.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as her own hand slid down between her legs, separating the smooth lips below. In her head, she heard his moans as he slid inside of her. Her back arched and her legs parted as she slid her soft fingers over her sex. In her mind, it was him. It was his body pressed up against hers and his manhood sliding deep inside of her. She could hear his voice as her body moved beneath her hands. In what seemed like mere moments, she was lost in the fantasy. Her bedroom, her bed, none of it existed. In her mind, she only saw him and the places that they had been together. In his arms, she had found heaven and it was that feeling that she desperately drove herself towards again.
Her fingers dipped down, rubbing and pressing against her clit as her soft moans filled the air. She could feel him, the weight of his body pressed against hers as he teased her. He had slid deep inside and sat there, waiting, staring down into her desire glazed eyes. It felt as real now as when it had happened then. Her hips rose of their own accord, wanting more than just the teasing of her fingers. Her body craved his and still lost in the dream, her fingers slid further down until her body was impaled upon them.
This is what he had done to her. He had impaled her body with his own, joining them together. In that moment, time had stilled and something had shifted inside of her. A bond had been forged and a piece of her would always belong to him. It was that piece that now called out for him, his name whispered frantically like the beat of a tribal drum. It was that piece that kept her buried in the fantasy as her body trembled and shuddered beneath her own hands. It was that piece that flung her over the edge of the dark abyss, leaving her body lying broken and shattered as her heart beat frantically within the confines of her chest. It was that piece, temporarily sated that pulled her down into sleep where the rest of her could start to heal. 

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