The Show

I couldn’t keep my eyes off of his lips and hands. I’d felt them on my body before, and the vivid thoughts of them all over me clouded my head like cheap wine, intoxicating and surreal. Though they were being used with innocence in the moment, I knew what those lips were capable of. The smirk he wore, a superficial disguise for the filthy things they had done to me.

Under my own restraint, I felt as if I were swimming against the current. I could easily let go, and let that current lead me right to his masculine hands. Utterly infatuated, the mere mention of his name was enough to make me wet….and he knew it. He knew the hold he had on me, giving him an air of cockiness and indifference that made me want him even more.

The moment he left my side, I was unable to control myself any longer. My fingers found their way down to appease my lust for him. Looking up, there he was, smiling at me again with those sexy lips.

Never were the lines between fantasy and reality more blurry, than with him looking on as I fucked myself at the thought of him touching me. I’d done it countless times before, but this time, he saw exactly the way I imagined him touching me. He silently watched and stayed the short time it took me to cum, before thanking me for the show and parting ways.