It was one of those warm nights when the air is so soft on your skin that you can barely distinguish between dream and reality. I was lying half-uncovered on the bed, my silk thong barely more than a hint on my skin. The fabric was so thin that even my thoughts vibrated in it. And they were all about you. I could still hear your voice - deep, slightly mischievous, as if you had guessed what was going on in my head. "Think of me," you said before we hung up. A smile flitted across my lips. I did more than that: my fingers played with the fabric of my thong, pulled at it, let it snap back again. The touch was barely noticeable - and yet it flashed through me like a secret whisper. I imagined you looking at me, your gaze slowly wandering over my curves, as if you were absorbing every detail. Your favorite look - if you thought I didn't notice. I turned on my side, wrapped a pillow between my thighs. The thong clung to me like your hands in my dreams. I imagined you pushing it aside, just with the tip of your finger, very slowly, playfully, curiously. I felt my heart beat faster as my thoughts became more and more entangled with you. The fabric was no longer just wafer-thin - it was damp. From me. From you. From everything that had remained unspoken between us. I closed my eyes and imagined you were here. You would kiss me - not right away, not greedily. But the way you sometimes look at me: full of promise, full of patience. I murmured your name into the silence as if it were a magic word. My body responded as if you had called it. And although I was alone, I felt so close to you, as if you were lying right next to me. Maybe it really was just a dream. Maybe not. But I know one thing: I will dream for you again tonight in my thong.