I’ve wanted your cock in me ever since I laid eyes on you.
Or maybe ever since you fucked me with your eyes, tore my clothes off in your mind, and caressed me afterward with the loveliest grin.
I prattled on about things that appeased your chromosomes and monkey brain. I skimmed the surface of your frontal lobe and made you want more.
I ate a fleshy hamburger and laughed at shitty innuendos while you eyed me like a first love.
You were with someone. I was with someone. So nothing beyond those glances.
But now you’re not with someone. And I’m not with someone. And every now and then I still think of you, with your leather jacket and your chest hair.
I heard you cheated on her.
But I don’t have to be with you forever.
A night or two, a month or two.
I dreamt of fucking you in the dark and now you’re on my mind. On me in my mind. Sliding in and out, and I’m as wet as a bath.
You’re so hard. Your hands squeeze me and seize me. Your breath smells of cheap beer and I inhale it. I want to swallow your tongue. Your cum is hot and it spills over me. My cunt glistens.
We laugh about some dumb existential crisis (we did meet in a philosophy seminar) and fuck again.
We fuck a lot now.
And your cum is always that hot.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/3paiy6/you_and_your_stare_str8
Nice. Short and to the point!