Do you know when you are crazy attracted to someone? No, not infatuation. Not respect. But selfish, lustful, animal magnetism. A draw so strong, so consuming, that the mind exorcises thoughts for the sake of sanity.
And that exorcism is oh-so-filthy. Thoughts that scarcely form into threads. Words that would scarcely ever part your lips. Visions that scarcely manifest with a face. They all do. It is an ejaculation of desire that will splatter into the void. Kinda pathetic. But it feels so, so good too.
I remember thinking for someone:
I want to push you against the wall and run the tip of my tongue from the base of your throat to your ear. Taste the salt on your skin and feel the thrumming of your pulse. I want to grab you by the side of your neck as I plunder your mouth.
I want to rip your blouse open, to tear your panties off. No, not disrobe you. No, not have you undress. Shred. Your. Clothes. You may want me. I want you more. So I will *take* faster than you can *give*.
I want to push you down, face and knees on the ground, force your your legs wide open, spread your cheeks, and tongue-fuck your asshole.
I want your back arched and ass in the air, straining, as I run the side of my hand up and down, up and down your wet pussy. I want to pinch the lips over the hood of your clit and roll them between my fingers as you mewl in pain or desire or both I care not. It only matters to me that you mewl.
I want to flip you over on your back. I want you to spread your legs as wide as you can of your own volition. Then I will hold your ankles in the manacles of my hands and spread them further still. I want you exposed, vulnerable, pliant. I want you to express your intent to be my receptacle. “Fuck me!” I want you to pant. “Fuck my cunt and fill it with your seed”. In that moment your person does not exist. I am blind to all but my desire. I want you to want my inhumanity.
I want to fuck you. Hard. I want to enter you as deep as I can. I want to stay there. Grind the weight of my body on your crotch. Hear the sounds of your wetness add to the symphony of your moans. I want to withdraw and plunge back in. Once. Twice. Your body jerking with the force of my thrust. Thrice. You gasps jagged. From pain or desire or both I care not. I care that you gasp. I know I cannot last. It is your fault. I want to hold you tight in place as I shudder and tremble and spend myself inside.
I want you wanton. Not content with consuming me just one way, I want you to take me in your mouth. To slurp and lather my shaft with your tongue as you have for yourself every last drop of me.
And then, I want you to look up at me, eyes wide sparkling, smile content. Mine.
—
Anyways, the elevator bell dinged and I wished her a good day on my way out.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/pjgbeo/in_heat_mf