It's funny how, when I'm standing in front of my cupboard in the dark light of morning, I'm wondering what I could wear that would make him want to take it off. I haven't yet succeeded, but it's fun to think of.
I wore a short tank top, butt-hugging jeans and a sweatshirt today and I had the most amazing time imagining his hands hidden by the sweatshirt, under tank top and on my back. It gave me goosebumps to think of, not to mention that habitual kick in the gut. I found myself imagining further. He'd slip his hands under the top and run them up from the low-cut waistband of my jeans as far as they'd go. People would be looking at us, judging us as people do, but little seeing the extent of the intimacy.
In my ideal world, we'd find our niche unoccupied again, and removed from the world. Up we go, then down, and into the secluded depths of the back stairs. "Kiss me, please." I reach for his shirt, pulling his face down to mine so I could get a taste of what I've been dying for. Out of the open glare of public eyes, I can now slip my hands under his tshirt. I love how he feels, I love how his back feels, I love how his torso descends into his jeans. I drag him backwards till my back is against a wall and he pushes himself into me. I can feel him under his jeans and I want him so bad. His mouth is now trailing down my neck, making me bite my lip in order that I don't make a noise as he makes his way along my neck and collar-bone, leaving marks that I would look at later and wish I was here again. His fingers flicking over my breasts are killing my restraint and when his mouth comes down to join them, I lose it. The most erotic feeling in the world comes from being nuzzled like that, and my gut has turned to liquid and is slowly evaporating.
"God, I want you now, I want you so much." I can't help myself, there isn't any coherence nor restraint left. All I can think of is how I want him right there and then. I don't care about the dust, the chance of being caught, any of it. I want to have him inside me, all around me, skin to skin, and I want it now. I want that feeling of fullness, of his weight on top of me, of his need getting stronger and harder. God, I want it so bad.
And then the second alarm rings, jolting me, still fully aroused, out of my reverie. I don't even know if I'll meet him today, but I wear what I'd decided anyway. What if?
And I run for the door, kicking myself for letting the imagination run away again, but not hard enough, coz I can still feel the kick of desire in my gut.
I wore a short tank top, butt-hugging jeans and a sweatshirt today and I had the most amazing time imagining his hands hidden by the sweatshirt, under tank top and on my back. It gave me goosebumps to think of, not to mention that habitual kick in the gut. I found myself imagining further. He'd slip his hands under the top and run them up from the low-cut waistband of my jeans as far as they'd go. People would be looking at us, judging us as people do, but little seeing the extent of the intimacy.
In my ideal world, we'd find our niche unoccupied again, and removed from the world. Up we go, then down, and into the secluded depths of the back stairs. "Kiss me, please." I reach for his shirt, pulling his face down to mine so I could get a taste of what I've been dying for. Out of the open glare of public eyes, I can now slip my hands under his tshirt. I love how he feels, I love how his back feels, I love how his torso descends into his jeans. I drag him backwards till my back is against a wall and he pushes himself into me. I can feel him under his jeans and I want him so bad. His mouth is now trailing down my neck, making me bite my lip in order that I don't make a noise as he makes his way along my neck and collar-bone, leaving marks that I would look at later and wish I was here again. His fingers flicking over my breasts are killing my restraint and when his mouth comes down to join them, I lose it. The most erotic feeling in the world comes from being nuzzled like that, and my gut has turned to liquid and is slowly evaporating.
"God, I want you now, I want you so much." I can't help myself, there isn't any coherence nor restraint left. All I can think of is how I want him right there and then. I don't care about the dust, the chance of being caught, any of it. I want to have him inside me, all around me, skin to skin, and I want it now. I want that feeling of fullness, of his weight on top of me, of his need getting stronger and harder. God, I want it so bad.
And then the second alarm rings, jolting me, still fully aroused, out of my reverie. I don't even know if I'll meet him today, but I wear what I'd decided anyway. What if?
And I run for the door, kicking myself for letting the imagination run away again, but not hard enough, coz I can still feel the kick of desire in my gut.
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