K and I only dated for a few months, and even after we fell out of touch I still wanted him. I knew he couldn’t give me what I wanted emotionally, but on a much more primal, physical level we were perfect for each other. His cock fit inside my cunt as if by design. Yes, sometimes it hurt, but a tight fit tinged with a bit of pain is always sweeter. I was physically drawn to him in a way that completely short-circuited my brain. His smell, the texture of his skin, the shape of his tongue and how he made me quiver… all details I continued to obsess over after we stoped dating.
One evening some time after we had broken up, an uber was carrying me home. I was sexting with someone else and feeling bored. I was also feeling ambitious and also a little sorry for myself (a natural consequence of imbibing gin), I texted K the following message on a whim: “I still fantasize about you. I want you to enter my apartment while I’m sleeping and have your way with me. I will be wet as soon as you pull the sheets back. I don’t want either of us to speak. I want you to give me your cum and leave. If you want to do this, text me just “tonight” on a day that suits you and I will respond with instructions how to access my apartment.”