i miss text messages, and e-mails, and on-line chats. i miss packing my bag on thursday night so i could go to her straight from work on friday. i miss the long drive on friday evenings, every minute and every mile taking me closer to her.

i miss getting to her place before she got home from work and waiting for her. i miss her smile when she walked through the door. i miss her hugs.

i miss her cooking. i miss drinking cider and watching the sunset. i miss listening to jeff buckley with her. i miss her singing 'sweet thing' to me. i miss her placing my collar around my neck. i miss kneeling at her feet with my head in her lap and her hands in my hair.

i miss being told to get naked. i miss dancing naked in the rain in her garden. i miss being bent over the back of her sofa. i miss the sting of the cane, the thud of the paddle, the slap of her bare hand.

i miss going down on her. i miss her hands on my body. i miss being teased and tormented. i miss being frustrated to the point of tears.

i miss the orgasms given and the orgasms denied. i miss the smell and taste of her. i miss the touch and the sight and the sound of her.

i miss her.