Chronic Preoccupation©

Exploring the geography of the contents of my continent, seeking salvation from temptation within my own furrows.  
Lying in bed, one hand squeezing my breast. The other crawling to my wet heated center, my pool of magma.  
I circle my areolas, outlining every detail, as if collecting data for documentation. Foreshadowing your Bercuda taking refuge in my damp cave.  
I take off on a solo mission of self-discovery.  
I. Am. Quite the voyeur.  
I can’t help but to crave our bodies moving simultaneously,  
Fingertips digging into my flesh.  
I picture your lips running smoothly down the nape of my neck as your body thrusts towards mine, pushing every inch of your manhood deep within.  
I take it like a pro.  
My fingers internal tornadoes churning my creamy core...
I
CAN’T
                                                    
BELIEVE
IT’S
NOT
BUTTER!
Pruned phalanges fraternizing with the reverie of maw in my drooling nether region.  
Pressing my button vigorously causing my clitoris to fill with blood and eke.  
Pressured movement of that of conjuring a genie out of its bottle.  
Clitoral hood retracting back to reveal the tip of my slick nodule.  
An insouciant ballerina pirouetting, wrapping in pink satin ribbon of ecstasy.
As I think of your excitement they plummet further inside of me.  
Stirring soulfully like pot of gumbo.  
I imagine your breath teasing my bare skin. Relating the pleasure of hemerotism to his tumescence, asserting my dirtiest thoughts. The recreational deed synthetic.
Glimpses of women creep into my minds eye oily wet full breasts in my face. Why can't I have one without the other?
Petting my pussycat, she purrs in approval. I alternate fingers and she clinches each and every one of them as if she is holding on for dear life knowing damn well she has nine more to spare.  
Twiddling & twirling I chant ancient rituals in sign language around my clit. Calligraphy in all capital letters.
  KILLING
                  ME  
                          EVER
                                     SO
                                             SOFTLY!
Left to my own devices I spread my labia and play with my goddess of love as if she were Aphrodite herself.  
Committing autoerotic suicide.  
Like the battle of Yin & Yang I siege myself, the emancipation of self-molestation.  
Trying to save me from myself, jealousy rears its ugly head mastering the arts of my private parts with the joys of masturbation.  
My handy work attesting to impish entertainment.  
A more kinesthetic approach to self nurturance.  
Self sufficiency at its finest.