An Open Letter

I knew I had been neglecting you.

When I saw you there today, I don't know why, but I had to have you. My mind was suddenly frenzied at the thought of not having you.

I could not help but run my fingers over your hardness. Climbing on top of you, I felt control as the heat rose up in me.

My god, you are beautiful!

As I lowered my self on top of you and felt you slide between my legs, I felt the slow smile creep across my face.

This, I thought, is happiness.

Feeling you hard between my legs, my ass pressed down tight on you as I pumped away.

I could feel my heart rate speeding up.

I closed my eyes and listed to the sound of you beneath me.

Listened to my breath.

Listened to the sound of the gardeners cutting the grass outside the window. The smell of it mixing with sweat and heat.

It was delicious!

I felt myself getting wetter and wetter. Sweat dripping from my head. Heat soaking my breasts. Heat rising from between my legs. I am swollen and raw. I am loving it.

I grab hold of you and thrust myself forward. My body falling forward as I pump harder and faster.

Yes! This is freedom! This hot! This happiness!

I want to stop, but I can't.

Harder. Harder. Harder.

Every ounce of me is wet and dripping.

My fingers dig into you and I am lost.

Smiling. Breathing that hot, smirky, satisfied grin of a slutty heathen who has just gotten her way.

I am spent.

I collapse on you and slowly slide off you.

Legs quivering and dripping in sweat and happiness.

I am filled.

I wipe you off, letting my fingers linger for a moment.

You have never let me down. You are always there when I need my fix.

I will love you always, my sweet Dolce.

My beautiful bicycle.