Keith wrote to me the other day. Just a brief "hey" and not much more. Somehow it was enough to awaken my longing for his nakedness. But last night I somehow cast my lust on to Mads Mikkelson. I've watched Hannibal and never really lusted after the man. And then maybe I did.
Then last night I had a series of dreams that cemented my desire. He was Hannibal and I was drugged. He fingered me and let me ride his hand to near orgasm just clinically enjoying my body's struggle for release. He let me stuck on his other finger, giving me the opportunity to taste his flesh and work toward seducing him. I came in a strangely gentle and barely satisfying way. He kissed me and my entire self was focused on the feel of his lips and tongue.
I could hear my husband banging his feet on something, trying to escape some kind of bonds in another room. Mads left and I could hear an unforgiving impact of his fist. Then silence. I felt guilty and angry then just lust again. There was, of course a very dark psychological element to all of this. Very Hannibal. He ultimately wounded me gently, tenderly, regretfully leaving me to die. Maybe.
I woke from my dreams and had to masturbate to relax. But now my nipples are achy and want to feel the scrape of his teeth, the wetness of his tongue, and the hard sucking of his lips. I want my nipples left swollen and red and uncomfortable so I can remember the feel of his mouth on me for days.
My pussy is empty. I can only hope going back to sleep will fill it, at least in my dreams.
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