In my bed, touching myself for a while.

Lying in my bed, with the television on only as background noise, I can't stop thinking about her... about my wife. I miss her with every fiber of my body. I remember her skin, her scent, the way her lips run over my neck, and how her breathing quickens when she gives herself to me. I closed my eyes and let the memories envelop me. My hand slowly lowered as I imagined her body on mine, her soft moans, her nails digging into my back. Desire consumes me, and I touch myself thinking of her, her mouth, her curves, her lust-filled gaze. Every movement is a tribute to her absence, a way to keep her close even though she's far away. Pleasure mingles with love, and every sigh that escapes my lips is for her. It's not just sex, it's connection, it's passion for that woman who drives me crazy. Today, like so many other nights, I surrender to her memory, wishing she'll soon be in my arms again.