My Dear Kitten,

I miss you. I miss the anticipation, the excitement of walking in and finding you standing as you’ve been told, nearly naked, eyes down, hands clasped. Waiting. I miss your little shivers and moans when I first run my fingers along the inside of your thigh, before I grasp your throat and ask you if you’re wet.

I miss your wetness, Kitten. I want to slide my fingers into your panties, tell you to spread your legs as I hold you pressed against me, and thrust my fingers into you to feel you. To check you, and to make sure that my Kitten is ready to kneel and suck my cock.

I miss your lips. I miss seeing them tighten around the head of my cock, watching them slide down the length of my shaft. I miss you licking, kissing, worshiping my cock with those lips, Kitten.

I miss your breasts, your nipples, my hand on your throat, my fingers digging into your hips as I hold you still on the bed beneath me.

I want my Kitten. Soon.

Love,
Q.