Her Green Eyes

She has green eyes. That is all I know.
She told me herself.
That simple, singular description of her is electrifying.
And maddening beyond belief.
It is all consuming because it is all I have.
It is all I know of her.

I actually experience moments where I doubt that she exists, so powerful is the dreamlike sensation of her.

I have her words written in an email
Sent anonymously.
There it is. Right there. In my inbox.
157 words.
700 characters [no spaces]
856 characters [with spaces]

It exists. It has weight. It fills out a small number of kilobytes. 21 kilobytes to be exact.
It occupies space on my harddisk.
But I fear that each time I open that email it will be gone. Like a dream dissipating in the morning light, reduced to memories and emotions that gradually ebb out to the sea of night.

I just checked.
It’s still there.

157 words that press the breath out of my lungs.
Leaving me gasping.
157 words that embrace me warmly, pressing their breasts against me
But words that are wrapped in a down quilt of anonymity.

With only those green eyes visible in my head.
Green, luminescent eyes filling a dark, dank void.
Illuminating me with sensations. Above and below the belt.
Intoxicating me with desire.

This is a bad time for me to write this.
I am aroused.
There is one track cutting through the erotic landscape before me and my mind is on it.
Steadily moving forwards.

But the landscape is not merely image-based, as is the way of a man.
Those green eyes have given the landscape an emotional edge.
A tingling sensation.

Anonymous.
Apart from her green eyes.
Apart from her describing the time of writing.
02:24.
And the time on the arrival in my inbox.
08:24.
Six hours difference.
Which places her on the eastern coast of the North American continent.

I want those green eyes.
I want them after midnight.
In a hotel room. Without words.
With only our eyes and our desire.

I want to explore those eyes.
A point of departure for an exploration of the rest of her.

I want to fix my blue eyes on them and kiss her.
Eyes open. Eyes widening as our lips meet.
As our tongues waltz.

I want to see them widen as I slide inside of her.
Feeling her heat envelop my cock.
Feeling her pussy tighten around it. Sucking me in.
I want to see my cock slide inside of her but I don’t take my eyes off of her green eyes.

I can’t.
I am helpless.

What happens to those eyes when she cums?
Not knowing is maddening.
Do they widen, mouth open in a silent scream? A low, throaty moan? A yell?
Do they narrow intensely with her desire?
Do they squeeze shut as her body throbs?
Or all of the above?

If my cock is in her mouth I wish only to look down at those eyes, looking up at me.
Breathing ragged, pleasure building.

I want her every hole. Her every square inch of skin against mine. Her green eyes.

I crave to know.

I crave to explore her.
To please her.
To tease her.
To be pleasured by her.

Those green eyes of hers surround me everywhere I go.

You know who you are.

You know what to do.