The Ramblings Of A Love-Starved Lesbian

I followed this with a deep solemn sigh. My mind becomes flooded with images of women I’ve kissed in the past. Each memory lighting up sparks of passion, bliss, and desire. That desire grows, causing me to dream of something new. Something that which has not yet happened. We are both sitting in a small boat made for two people. We glide gently, almost still, across a the surface of a pond with greenery surrounding us, the critters humming their evening tunes, and the moon lighting our scene. The hot summer air that lingered into the night flushes my face as I gaze deeply into her eyes. They reflect dazzled light in the distance and the two of us share a deep intimacy. She cups her palm into my cheek to which I respond by snuggling into her embrace. She tenderly traces her thumb back and forth across the smooth surface of my face. After what seemed an eternity of looking into each other’s eyes, she parts her lips shifting her gaze down to mine. I can feel the gentle warmth of her breath reaching me, glazing my skin. She begins to lean towards me tiling her head. Her movement, in slow motion, barely disturbing the water surrounding us. But our embrace is like waves crashing in a hypnotic repetitive rhythm, as our lips meet in a slow and endless interlocked dance. Heat rises and spreads throughout my body as I breathe into her. This a need—no, a want. I want this. I want this so badly. The daydream begins to fade the more I plead—I beg— for my heaven with her to continue. The sensation of her lips pressed against mine dissipate and I begrudgingly return to reality. I sink further into my bed staring at the ceiling. With only the memories and daydreams of my yearning to keep me company.