So, this new guy [Jock] has got me totally figured out already. Well, he hasn’t, but he’s going the right way. We’ve been texting and calling each other in that way that new potential lovers do: constant questions and answers, flirty banter, naughty conversations that you would berate other boys for.
I thought I might’ve grown bored of him by now. No sign of that, though. The stuff he’s saying to me is driving me crazy. Whether I ‘like’ him or not, I’m definitely lusting after him. But I’m wondering if that might be a bad thing?
“I like slow, sensual sex. Kissing, touching, watching the person’s reaction as you touch them, finding out what makes them tick.”
That’s what he said to me. That’s the text that literally drove me over the edge into complete lustful insanity. From the moment I read it, all I could think about was riding him in his car, that first kiss replaying over and over in my mind and ending in a very different way (with him inside me).
The way he kissed me and touched me was so respectful, but also so dominating. I think there’s a side to him that’s going to drive me completely and utterly bonkers in all the best ways. I can see him teasing and playing with me until I’m quite literally begging him to stop, kissing me everywhere except for where I really want to be kissed. I can’t wait for it. I’m hoping for it. Begging for it … ?
“You’re an angel with a dirty face, you are,” he said to me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Is that what I am? An angel with a dirty face? What does that even mean? That I’m innocent on the inside but dirty on the outside? Because that’s not the case. I’m mostly squeaky-clean on the outside … it’s what on the inside that’s a kinky, filthy, dirty little bitch. And I don’t mind admitting it.
“I don’t want to wait to see you again. Do you want to go for dinner tonight?” he then asked, but I said no. I was too wound up to see him and keep my hands to myself, and I definitely don’t want our first time sleeping together to be some hurried fumble in the back of his car. That’s when he told me I frustrate him; he likes that I make him “work for it” and won’t give everything away “too easy”. In turn, I like the effect I’m having on him. I like that he can’t wait for my text in the same way I can’t wait for his.
“You on top, hands on my chest, panting. Yes, that rocks!” he said, and I couldn’t help but blush as the image bounced around in my head.
“If just thinking of us naked together does *this* then the real thing is going to have an even bigger effect,” he went on. And I knew exactly what he meant. I was virtually drooling at the thought of getting my hands on him; of us kissing and touching and getting all hot n’ sweaty together. Images of what I want to do to him play constantly in my mind: planting kisses all over his body, and running my hands through that patch of hair on his chest that I can’t stop thinking about. Unbuttoning his jeans and letting his cock spring out into my hands for the first time. Taking him into my mouth and working my magic …
Fuck, I can imagine. Can you imagine it?
Peeps, I can’t wait to fuck this guy.