Vanilla. My favourite scent.
The scent that reminds me so much of you, so sweet and tempting.
A scent that reminds me so vividly of the taste of your pouty red lips the exact moment they meet mine and the gentle, sometimes desperate way they move against mine.
The feel of your soft skin beneath my fingers
The way you tremble as I hold you close
The taste of your skin as I worship your flawless body
The way you never moan the same way twice
The mischievous glint in your eyes as you lower yourself onto me
How incredibly tight you've remained during these years of deceit
The sight of you, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream and eyes squeezed shut in overwhelming pleasure that always gets me off
The smell of your hair as we embrace in post-coital bliss.
And on mornings like these, it reminds me that we can never be together.
So I'll lie in bed just a little while longer staring at your empty half of the bed and holding your pillow close, inhaling your scent for what could possibly be the last time.