Levitate me

It had been six months since he last showered her with any love. Indeed the last time she spoke to him at all, three months prior he was rude, accused her of groveling, in truth that's exactly what she was doing, but still her desire for him was so intense, her pussy ached pleading with her to beg him and she found her hand reaching down her pants to feel the moisture between her legs. If she wasn't so convulsed with pain and nauseous from the shame,  she may have actually been able to give herself an orgasm, how ironic her desire was the one thing that prevented her from relieving her frustration. The idea of fantasizing over him then or even just finding pleasure from that kind of stimulation caused her to sink yet deeper into the abyss of despair and torment. 

She tries to keep her head remembering six months earlier when she would stare hour after hour at the computer screen- where was he? When would he come and elevate her mind, body and soul? Still her thoughts romance her back to when like a genie he would appear “tadahh”  and her tummy would flip, this wasn’t a computer screen; this was magic and an escape from all the harsh realities of her life. 

From that moment there were no dishes, there were no bills, no kids and certainly no husband. For now there was only her Indian lover and he was going to make her dance, she was going fly higher than any bird, her dowdy robe and unbrushed hair was now naked wet skin,  sparkling beads of ocean water made her glisten in the sunlight, her hair dripping wet sending a stream of water trickling down her breasts, her nipples erect, his finger catches the stream running slowly up across the curve of her belly, then the palm of his hand slides across her wet breast , she tosses her head back and he pulls her close to him pressing his hard cock between her thighs. She knew he would never be so crass to fuck her in that moment, he wanted her to crave him, he knew she would beg him to soon, but she did want him to. She was weak, she was putty but she wore a frown caused by her longing. He pulls away from her, “dance for me” he demands of her. 

She feels her nipples against the keyboard she laughs at herself for a moment, she is at her desk and her imaginary Indian lover is in India, “my breasts grew an entire size I swear, is that possible?” She asks him "conjurer of big breasts”   You are the one turning a man on a million miles away, I am in so much trouble if my boss walks in.” She likes the power and the challenge, she needs to take him away from thoughts of bosses. “Where can I dance for you? “he’s typing she waits, she wants to touch her self but knows he wants her to be patient “Dance over me, dance around me, dance with me.” “can I straddle on you and feel you inside me, if  I promise to dance your penis in and out of me, PLEASE??????” she begs. 

“Come with me Jaan, I want to take you somewhere”  She loved it when he called her Jaan (sweetheart in Hindi) “where are you taking me darling”? He takes a length of red silk ribbon and wraps it around his hand, strokes her face, leaning in, he kisses her gently on the lips, then his tongue looks for hers, she leans back as he slams her against the wall her arms reach in the air as she surrenders to him. He takes her wrist and wraps the ribbon around and around and like a puppeteer he spins her, she giggles and again he pulls her into his cock this time her behind feels the stiffness of his penis as he bites her neck. She lets out a little cry and he unties her wrists, tenderly he kisses her neck, he blows gently in her ear and whispers in Hindi, she has no clue what he speaks, she does know that every breath and syllable makes her buckle and she fears she can take no more, she wants him with a passion she has never known before.