Desirous talk comes from your lips. Whispers of promises. Naughty thoughts and deeds all streaming off your tongue. Your mouth produces a staccato of dirty words mixed with insinuating thoughts. I listen. My tongue crosses over my lips, wetting them, as my body warms to your words. My thighs squeeze together slightly masking the growing wetness pooling between them. I wait.
I wait for your words to become physical. I wait for your words to cross over and touch me with their consonants and vowels. I need to feel them coursing over my body just as hands on flesh. I want the harsh tones to bite and the sensual tones to caress. I need to feel your filthy dreams drip off my tongue and dribble down my chin to drip onto my breasts. I want to be able to rub them into my skin so I can totally absorb you. I need to feel them all. But I wait.
My own hands crave you. I tell you so. I tell you my erotic thoughts and hope that you can feel them. My breasts against your flesh. My hard nipples brushing past you ever so softly. My mouth on you. My tongue swirling.
The sting of your hand as you spank me hard. "Can you feel it? Do my words manifest their strength into what I need you to feel? Does the force of my desires pin you to the bed unable to move against them?"
You tell me more and hear my heavy breaths. My arousal so clear and I know you can feel me. You speak again. Another slew of vulgar utterances slap me hard and my breath leaves me from the impact. Can you feel me now? I can feel you.