Touch, or the music of my sighs

I am wearing my new black spike heels, fishnets, and the tight black satin skirt I just bought.
With the new purple sweater falling open across my bare shoulders, and my fishnet stockings, I know I look hot.
The clothes flatter my hourglass shape and the high heels elevate my calves like nothing else.
"You should dress like this all the time."
Z smiles and pulls me toward him.
His hands slide down my back, feel my legs, roam over my chest and inside the blouse, inside the innocent white lace lingerie I've chosen for tonight.
"Come closer."
Z pulls me to him.
I stand there, in my 4 inch heels, head thrown back, as he pulls my breasts out of the shirt, out of the bra and sucks on the nipples, kneading them with him fingers and his tongue.
I stand there, in my black fishnet stockings, a smile on my face, as he runs his hand beneath my skirt, up high inside my thighs.
"Very nice," Z says, and we go into the bedroom where take I off the clothes, then give him a backrub and a massage.
"Let me put some cream on you," he says, and soon I am naked on the bed, almost spread eagled, feeling him carefully rub cream into my tanned back and the (still) angry sunburn on my shoulders.
Soon, Z is kissing me, and then his hands are on my body, the fingers moving inside.
No one has touched me for 10 days, I have been away, and my breathing grows ragged and heavy.
Z is working me, he wants to make me come, he wants to hear the music of my sighs.
I watch his face as he excites me--serious, intent, loving.
Soon, he closes his eyes going only by touch, his hands playing inside my body.
I come, and then I come, and then I lie back smiling, easy and relaxed, amazed at how langorous I feel.
"That felt so good," I says."Can I do something for you?"
"Not now, sweetheart, another time," he says, and I smile sweetly, hiding the disappointment.
I want to suck your cuck, I want you to fuck me silly, I want... But I don't say any of those things.
Instead, we lie together and talk, and cuddle, and I wish, for the 10,0000th time that that wonderful man was in much better health.
If Z was healthier, stronger...I don't know that I would need to look for anyone else,
but as it is, he leaves and I feel guilty for being somewhat unsatisfied.