When we imagine sexiness we can be mindless bimbos with perfect bodies. Feel like the sexiest version of ourselves that core deep within ourself that is pure femininity. Pure fantasy.

Sometimes thinking of that man, over us he is merely sensation and glimpses....At first.

Women close their eyes to feel the arousal fill her mind, her whole body begins to connect together. Nerves connecting building up, along fingers, along arms, along sides, up thighs and between those legs, warming up. Sighs just happen as clothes fall away, pushed aside.

When the mood takes us as we try to allow thoughts of what a kiss would be like. Lips purse and press together, pink turns to red and cheeks warm as the frisson over our face makes us crave the brush of a bristled chin or that slight stubble. Mmmmmm the Smooth skin of a strong jawline. Fresh lips perfectly locked over our opening mouth.

The tightening joins the throng of a body, a woman's body winding itself up. Two tightened nipples now hard, firmer goosepimply tits traced by soft hands fingertips make fluttering highs. Shaped and cupped, dimpled with the thoughts of being fondled, as our back arches and tummy's stretch out. A hand now slowly following the soft belly the palest parts of us, and so warm. Lower and lower.

Then the touches we give ourselves, the most deliberate ones, to simulate, the covering pressure, of a man pressed and hot and fingers replace his hardness. The welcome we give to that thing that desirous shape to feel penetrated and stretched. Imagining this one man in perticular now. His look his concentration, his eyes.

Stretching out a long look of shared desire, at that thought, a woman lays back and moans. Now is when the body truly responds as legs open the soft hairs and the shaven the swelling lips the wet nakedness as that place is opening. As it is slid and slipped open, the sigh as it is penetrated by the pleasure of all those thoughts concentrating, a woman pleasuring herself feels the tension turns on her tummy trapping her fingers the gentle touch becomes an urgent need two fingers almost crushing the clit. Her mind her body finding all the nerves collect at her centre. The hot centre. There we lay as the tension mounts. Outstretched with thoughts of perfect moments glimpses of men we have seen brushed against but that one man who triggered this moment of self love. We women get a longed for need to feel like we should, completely womanly in touch with every ounce of our hot soft perfect flesh.

But the rubbing the wet fast flickering of skilled fingers trained by the unladylike thoughts of just what needs to be done to be thought about to make the magic happen.

Faster rubs slippily making her blink and a woman's touch is too much to keep still to stop your head from turning searching for him. To watch her, to be there, over her watching, smiling just as she cums, we all need that moment when the waiting gets too much.

Ohhhhhhhhh yes the whole giant ball of sensation, shatters a woman into a million pieces when she looses the fight to hold it back. It's a ride she wanted to surrender to all along.