Humid Day Dreams

Well, fuck it and fuck it again– I am once again solo. Fuck and when I say fuck– I mean a screaming growling I am fed up FUCK.

My nearly year long experience in trying to have my cake -or cock- and eat it too, two men for one girl, appears to have been a failure. Now I have no local cock and my NYC is done with me too. Men are a sensitive creature, but women are too. How quickly joy can pass.

I am now going on 3  long weeks of no cock, and that will just not do. The first two weeks were merely wallowing in the rejection and loss of love and fuck with Easter candy, weed and scotch. Followed by week of self deprecation from all Easter candy, weed and Scotch– now here I am day dreaming about cock, I am taking  it as a good sign.

When I got home from my morning errands and hike I felt like a nap. I stripped down to my boy cuts, grabbed my classic iconic vibrator, and got between the sheets.

Slipping my fingers under the band of panties and begin to spread my lips apart I could feel how wet I was instantly. Slick and creamy, no doubt from all that day dreaming i was doing on my hike about just how good it will be to taste that meaty curve of yours.

As I hiked the humid ocean air and the strong smell of eucalyptus consumed me and drifted into the thought of your cock trapped behind your denim, and no boxers, how you tease me with how heavy you are getting, straining against the fabric. I think about you dripping, about precum forming a wet spot on the front of your jeans. My fingers feeling you get hard, detecting the ridges, making your head begin to pulse with the tips of my fingers. I always start gentle, a brush of my fingers, but the firmer you get the less I can control the want and the throb that generates from between my legs and starts taking over my whole body.

The way you lean back in that chair, and your body tilts and becomes slack to my touch, you drift to relax, your body all except your cock softens at the knowledge that soon you will be in my mouth.

Lowering to my knees, close to your lap, my hands still making you swell, my cheeks getting closer, I without a thought my thighs spread a bit further, I feel my lips open, the sticky slickness slowly splitting to a deeper wetness and that throb begins to thump, beating to the pulse of my blood flow. But– it is when hand lands upon my head and your fingers grasp into my mess of hair — the way you hold my head to your cock that is still contained behind your jeans– that is when my want consumes every part of me, and I need to taste you, when Ineed to have you in my mouth.

Republished with permission from Library Vixen. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Slow Motion Blowjob.