Go No, I won’t stop you Not because I don’t want you But because I don’t know how to keep you I wear my “don’t approach” like a shield And I’ve succeeded in pushing you away So go I’ll live behind my wall Going on with my mind intact And my heart in shreds
I ache and you know it. As you squeeze, knead, palm the full mounds of my ass, I press my face into the mattress and wait. I want you. Please, I want you so much. You groan. Your love of my overabundant assets is obvious from the weighty erection you sport, but I can’t see …
It’s been awhile because I’ve been taking a faster method to work, but the train is still my favorite way to go. – I haven’t wanted to suck cock in weeks, but something about the way he’s standing is making my mouth and my cunt water. The train is full enough that we’re both standing. …
To want me requires keen sense. Gazing at me and seeing brown skin, breasts to fill your palms, the curve of hip and thighs, and my ass plentiful. I give of tremendous heat, engulfed by my need But to have me takes a stout heart and a quick hand — “I’m not playing hard to …
There’s a weird sort of detached intimacy on the train. Few instances require such long periods of closeness with complete strangers. Eyes pretending to stare into space as you absorb the body heat of the person next to you. A thigh pressed to yours, a back against yours, a crotch at eye level inspiring lewd …
As usual, mind is moving fast and I need to write. I met up with H.H and Lola for dinner tonight. They are lovely by the way. I’ve met a few fellow bloggers in the last 3.5 months and I’m glad for every experience. I tell everyone I meet that I’m terribly awkward and it’s …
Been a while for this one too… — The trains been interesting lately. I’m fixated on the obviously gay young guy standing across from where I’m sitting, my music throbbing in my ear as I wonder about his proclivities when we reach a stop on the line. Out of the corner of my eye the …
His hand darts between my thighs and I grip his wrist unable to decide if his touch is welcomed or not. Friend or foe? My pussy can’t very well decide… No, my pussy says friend with each wet squelch. “I barely know you.” My words are trembly even as I let my thighs splay open …
It was an obligatory kiss. Too perfect in its execution to be anything but fake, mirroring the look in his eyes as he held her in his arms. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand across her mouth when he released her. The smell of coffee still on his breath seemed to linger on …
Slicing deep, I feel nothing except the most heady relief as my skin parts like too tender meat under the blade. I’m removed from myself then. Released, renewed, reinvented as my blood runs down my forearm to puddle on the table. This cut, like most things in my life, isn’t as deep as it seems. …