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I Miss His Kiss

I have been thinking about J a lot. It has been nearly 4 months since we last hung out. I miss him. I miss the way he makes me feel, the way he touches me, his shyness and the way he asks for permission. Permission to touch me, permission to touch himself. It’s all so hot.

Strangely, I miss his kiss. He wasn’t my favorite person to kiss, but I didn’t hate kissing him either. I never wrote about it before, but he kisses rather awkwardly. The best way to describe it is like a chicken. He gives quick little pecks. It’s sweet, though at times I wanted more, deeper, passionate kisses. Damnit though, I miss the shy, timid way he kisses.

I thought about him last night while I masturbated. I thrust my hips into the air, humping my mattress. I desperately rubbed my bullet over my clit, pressing into me. I tightened my kegels muscles as I let out a loud moan, thinking his name over and over, looking at his dick pics on slideshow when my eyes weren’t closed in blissful concentration.

In the past, thinking about him and writing about our fun times has brought him back. As much as I love the idea of him coming back, I couldn’t handle him disappearing again.

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