Finally back from the parents’, and a Merry Christmas was had by all.
Except… oh, this ongoing fantasy I’ve been having is wickedly potent.
It’s probably the celibacy doing it. I mean, sure, it’s been ages since I actually had man-flesh next to my skin, and also the lack of places or opportunity to touch myself while visiting the folks, it’s bound to drive a woman crazy right?
I picture him. I picture him in so many scenarios it makes my panties damp.
I picture him tangling his hand in my long hair and pulling my mouth to his for a wet, sensual, fierce kiss. I picture him pushing me against a wall, pinning my hands to it while his mouth burns my collarbone, my nipples, his teeth closing over my shoulder. I picture him standing there, aching, against that same wall, while I slide to my knees and nuzzle him, licking the very tip of his cock over and over until we’ve both lost track of time, sliding him between my lips only then, that powerfully hard cock filling my senses. I picture him pulling me to a chair and over his lap before I have time to calculate, his meaty palm meeting my ass in firm strokes that have me gasping and wriggling against him. I picture straddling over him, pushing aside my panties so I can ride him, face to face, grinding into each other until we both break apart and moan and…
See? And these are the ones that are G-rated. 😉
I cannot get this fantasy out of my mind. Maybe it’s the forbidden thing. If I was allowed to do these things, maybe they wouldn’t be such a powerful fantasy, but because I know I can’t do these things, I can’t stop thinking about them.
I mean it. It comes to me at odd times, and always visits me before I sleep. The past three days have been filled with ideas, scenarios, naughty little thoughts.
And fantasies about his smell, his taste. Damn.