I thought of a few different ways to go about this letter but in the end only one way made much sense. You wouldn't be opening this if I were there, so I hope this helps you along some. I have this fantasy, one I've had for a while and mentioned to you before. It's helped me out a time or two when we were apart.

It's in the evening and I go to visit you at the studio, nothing unusual. What is unusual is that save for you the studio is completely empty. Maybe you let everyone go home early, maybe it's some sort of holiday and Whit is with Kim so you decided to get some work done. Either way, I'm bringing you dinner. Something I made and packed up.

You're a little agitated because you can't get something to come out the way you hear it in your head. Dinner is momentarily forgotten while I tug off my shoes and sit down at one of the keyboards. It takes a little while but we finally get it exactly how you want it and you're so relieved, I love that look on your face. I'm tinkering with the keys when I feel your hand pull my hair to the side and then your lips on my neck. I don't know if you feel or see it but it always makes me shiver and smile.

Then my earlobe is between your teeth and I know what's on your mind because mine nearly always mirrors it. It's easy to turn in the chair and tug you into a kiss. Before I know it I'm standing and your hands are up my shirt because as we know, you are incredibly handsy. It always feels like the first time with you, like it's the first kiss, the first touch, and I can't seem to get enough. Both of our shirts are lost and tossed onto the chair. I don't let you touch me again, though. Instead I step back and slowly remove every other piece of clothing. I love when your eyes on me. You make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and it's such a turn on to hear the noise you make when I bend over to pull off my socks.

Usually we're slow, even when it doesn't seem like it, taking our time with each other. This time is different though and I'm not sure why. The kisses are hard, passionate and it's like our hands are everywhere, trying to touch as much skin as possible in the shortest amount of time. We both want each other so much that we can feel the ache that we share and it's beautiful.

I know how much you enjoy control and you know how much I enjoy when you take control, the only person I would ever let take control of me. You turn me around and urge me forward, bending me over the soundboard. "Don't move." I don't. Any other time I might push, might move a little to see what you would do, but I want you too badly to prolong this. I can hear you moving around behind me for a couple of minutes that feel like an eternity. Then your hands are on my hips and I sink back while you sink forward into what we both want.

Like the moments leading up it's fast, hard, and at some point you grip my hair and tug just enough so that my back arches in a way that has you praising and cursing at the same time. Your voice, the feel of you. I lose track of time but I know it can't belong before we're both calling to each other loud enough to echo off of the empty walls and high ceilings.

It takes a few minutes before we can actually move and I know that even then my legs are a little wobbly. Ten minutes later we've managed to get some of our clothes back on and we're sitting on the floor sharing dinner out of the tupperware containers while cracking jokes and sharing kisses.

I hope the pictures I included here help but I also hope you're not having too much fun without me. (Don't worry, I didn't put them on any cloud before I printed and deleted them.)