The Aftertaste

Adult erotic fantasy art by Samarel
I can’t stop the dream. My eyes are open, and all I see is him. I close my eyes, and I swear I can taste him. I lick my lips and savor the aftertaste of sweat and cologne that was left as my lips memorized his tensed abs. My hands feel full of his strong flesh as I look to realize I hold air. I turn to see him with his hands on my back as I feel the heat radiate through me.

 Nothing. He is not there.

 I settle with the knowledge that his soul is not mine but floats beyond my meager touch. I swallow the craving to kiss his neck and trace his jaw line with my tongue searching for his lips. I block my heart with emotional constraints knowing his love lies elsewhere. Away from him I turn….

 Nothing. He is not there.

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