avatarBrooklyn Thomas

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n my ears and lips. I miss his kisses on my other lips. How he would sometimes circle my vagina with his tongue and kiss me straight after because he wanted me to taste how good I was.</p><p id="b05a">I miss how sometimes we would be too hot for foreplay. Skip all the other steps and go straight to fucking. I miss writhing and groaning as I started feeling him enter me. Pushing him harder in me. Riding him till we both come too quickly. Him fucking me as I came multiple times while doing doggy.</p><p id="4b3c">I miss the feeling of him thrusting in and out of me. The sound of the headboard banging on the wall. How I would get even more turned on because he didn’t seem to care.</p><p id="1d21">I miss that hair pulling, body scratching, back arched off the bed sex. But I also miss the slow and sensual, your body is my body kind of sex. The, <i>let me drink from the fountain that is you,</i> sex. The, <i>we didn’t come but we don’t care,</i> sex.</p><p id="ac4b">I miss the sound of him coming. How he would collapse on the bed and we’d just talk about dumb shit. Laugh as we tried to skip back to where we were on Netflix. How he would cry, “Spoilers!” And blame me for being too sexy.</p><p id="c6c2">How sometimes after an episode or two his arms wrapped around me in a kind embrace would loosen. Or how sometimes platonic fingers would increase in pressure, dragging slower against my body. How sometimes he’d just randomly press pause, flip me over and start to ravage my body.</p><p id="1da8">I miss how he always seemed to want me. How he used to be in awe of my body. How he would lick and caress me. But I don’t miss him.</p><p id="3001">I don’t miss the confusion or angst. Waiting day

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s for him to reply to my texts. Or the gaslighting that happened towards the end. But I do miss the sex.</p><p id="1073"><i>I am a sex-blogger and editor of the publication — <a href="https://medium.com/tinder-ella-chronicles">Tinder[ella] Chronicles!</a> A home for all my sexy content! You can expect to find my sex tips, erotica, embarrassing stories and more!</i></p><div id="aa52" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-art-of-choking-during-sex-d78e763812d8"> <div> <div> <h2>The Art of Choking During Sex</h2> <div><h3>You may think it is as simple as a handgrip around the neck but it’s actually a delicate art and a display of trust</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*yNbp73_7gF6ZRLVUdj45IA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="d0b8" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/virginity-is-a-social-construct-7ee0c676bb1a"> <div> <div> <h2>Virginity Is a Social Construct</h2> <div><h3>I can’t remember the name of the guy I lost my virginity to yet a woman’s first time is meant to be the pinnacle of…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*BoZj4IlxHaGxIHB-e2YJNg.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

I Miss The Sex

I may not miss the man but I do miss the sex

Photo by freestocks.org from Pexels

I miss sex. I miss watching Netflix with him pressed on my back as his hands slowly make their up and down my body. I miss feeling excited as he gently twists and plays with my nipple bars. Feeling him slowly get hard. Teasing him by rubbing the inside of his thigh. Nearing closer to his dick but never actually touching it. Until I did.

I miss feeling his dick turn hard in my hand. How even through full concentration watching our TV show, his body couldn’t hide how much he wanted me.

I miss how after five or ten minutes even half an hour of messing around he would flip me over and start to kiss me. Playful games would transpire into rushed fumbles, clothes and inhibitions laid strewn across the bedroom floor.

I miss how he would gently massage my clit for a couple of seconds before getting too excited, moving straight to fingering. How he would whisper, “you’re already so fucking wet.” As he pushed in with more vigour and I would melt into his fingertips.

I miss how he would gently bite down on my neck, nibble on my ears and lips. I miss his kisses on my other lips. How he would sometimes circle my vagina with his tongue and kiss me straight after because he wanted me to taste how good I was.

I miss how sometimes we would be too hot for foreplay. Skip all the other steps and go straight to fucking. I miss writhing and groaning as I started feeling him enter me. Pushing him harder in me. Riding him till we both come too quickly. Him fucking me as I came multiple times while doing doggy.

I miss the feeling of him thrusting in and out of me. The sound of the headboard banging on the wall. How I would get even more turned on because he didn’t seem to care.

I miss that hair pulling, body scratching, back arched off the bed sex. But I also miss the slow and sensual, your body is my body kind of sex. The, let me drink from the fountain that is you, sex. The, we didn’t come but we don’t care, sex.

I miss the sound of him coming. How he would collapse on the bed and we’d just talk about dumb shit. Laugh as we tried to skip back to where we were on Netflix. How he would cry, “Spoilers!” And blame me for being too sexy.

How sometimes after an episode or two his arms wrapped around me in a kind embrace would loosen. Or how sometimes platonic fingers would increase in pressure, dragging slower against my body. How sometimes he’d just randomly press pause, flip me over and start to ravage my body.

I miss how he always seemed to want me. How he used to be in awe of my body. How he would lick and caress me. But I don’t miss him.

I don’t miss the confusion or angst. Waiting days for him to reply to my texts. Or the gaslighting that happened towards the end. But I do miss the sex.

I am a sex-blogger and editor of the publication — Tinder[ella] Chronicles! A home for all my sexy content! You can expect to find my sex tips, erotica, embarrassing stories and more!

Erotica
Sex
Sexuality
Poetry On Medium
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