He is a smart, funny, sarcastic friend-of-friend-of-mutual friends that I matched with on tinder. He makes smart, dry jokes, but laughs freely. There is romance lurking under the surface— how he kisses me gently enough to make me ache for more; in the way he deliberately presses his hips into mine against the balcony of the rooftop bar where we met. His moves are slow, calculated, firm in their subtlety. He tortures me with time. I don’t quite get to orgasm, but all that does is leave me wanting more. We’ve seen each other since then at various events and casual evenings. I’m always aware of his presence, and resist the constant, humming urge to grab him and tell him hoarsely to just fuck me hard already…
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/9lj2l8/the_list_number_22_fm_true_story_prose