You asked me to write about my senses. I liked the prompt, but I made a mistake. Your silence is calling me out on it, so let’s give this another shot.
She wants him alone in a small, dark room. Small because she doesn’t need much space for what she wants to do. Dark because she doesn’t want to be distracted by sight. She wants to feel.
She wants to feel how hungry he is for her. She wants to feel how strong his desire is. She wants to feel the solidity of his body, pressing her against the wall, pinning her down on the bed, holding her down. She wants to feel how hard she makes his cock, how slick and smooth it is thrusting inside her, and how it pulsates when he comes.
She wants to hear him say her name, hear him tell her exactly what he wants her to do. She wants to hear his breath quicken until he is panting and then gasping. She wants to push him to the edge where language fails.
She wants to taste him. His mouth, bitter. His skin, salty. His cock, musky. She wants to smell the animal scent of their mingling pleasure and know that it is unique. The smell will take her someplace new, not just to her, but to him and to the universe.
She wants him to do whatever he likes with her in that small dark place, and she wants him to leave her different. Knowing.