Once I notice, that's it. It's already begun: the deep ache and longing to be satisfied felt in my central pleasure zone, the engorged sensation, the silken drippings, the heat arising from deep within. It will not be hushed or silenced. I feel the heat of its burning and wanting. I notice my clothes wrapping my pleasure tighter, holding my longing close and interfering with my ability to forget and carry on. If I'm not careful, I will drip silky nectar from my wanting, leaving my scent for all to notice.
I imagine this is what it's like to have an erection; to lose the ability to hide my arousal. I hope it is not obvious. Without awareness, I take note of every dick in my line of vision. It controls me and by now, after years of fighting the affliction, I have to go with it. I know what happens if I fight it off and try to avoid the urge. It drives deeper into my core. It injects itself into my thoughts. I can't sit without being aware of the wanting to be pleasured. I can't focus on anything except throbbing and pulsating and desire to be touched and rubbed and licked and filled and rocked and socked and popped until I beg it to stop.
I feel the urges growing, showing up in my dreams. Last night, I had a dark man dream, he was dark-skinned, had dark, deep soulful eyes, a nice thick chest and broad shoulders, and a heavy thick warm, and dark chiseled cock that made my body tingle at every spot it touched on me. I could not get enough. I had this man rub his beautiful cock all over my body for hours and felt orgasmic at the touch of the tip of the swollen dark-colored mushroom-like head anywhere on my skin. I was drooling wanting it in my mouth it was so lovely. I could not get off enough after waking. I need to be filled deeply and I need to quiet this gnawing in my groins before it shouts a message itself offering pleasure to any Tom, Dick, Harry, or Jane. Jane. She wasn't a dream.
Jane was the lesbian who fell in love with my nectar. I wasn't careful. Jane was collateral damage caused by avoiding and denying myself the satisfaction and satiation I needed. Jane was gorgeous. I didn't even know she was gay. I was dating her friend. He hadn't told her about me and he had asked me to keep us on the down low before going to a party. She didn't like that he wasn't proud of me. He stopped at a gas station to use the restroom on our way home from the party and Jane and I made out in the car while he was inside. I didn't think, I just went with my desire. She could smell my sweet nectar. She gave me her tongue and told me where she was going to put it next if I let her. I did. I let her put it there over and over and over. She licked my pussy almost as good as I would myself if I could. She wanted to drink my nectar whenever she could. She would rub my juices all over her body. She told me she wanted to take in my scent and mix it with her own connecting our chemicals. I licked her pussy too. I liked licking her pussy and I was very good at it. She tasted delicious too. Not too sweet but slightly sweet with a well-balanced earthy flavor, natural and juicy creating a thirst that only it can satisfy.
I seek opportunity. I know when to exchange a look of desire and also know that with one spark a full flame could be ignited. Contain the elements. Manage the desire. Satisfy the burn.
There he is. I sat at the bar by myself about to order a cocktail and scanned the scene. He was two seats away, finishing a drink, and noticed my presence. I saw the moment he picked up on my scent. I noticed his posture shift. I noticed his scent. He sent over a drink. He sent a note with it that said, "Can I sit next to you?" I looked over, made eye contact, lit the spark, nodded yes, and knew he was the one. I felt my pussy ache a little deeper noticing the bulge of his manness when he stood up. I felt a gush of silky nectar escape my hungry slit. He was taller and larger than he looked. I saw a tattoo peeping from under the right sleeve of his shirt. I noticed his nipples were hard. I noticed the hair on my arms was standing as I took in his scent. Wanting to bury my face in it and take a deep breath in.
The conversation was easy, I felt the effects of the gin making me giggly, a bit flirty, and receptive to subtle touches he made. He had shared his name but I already forgot. Too focused on my pussy. I noticed the electricity in the places where our arms touched. I noticed he gave me a shocking sensation when he asked to see my earring and touched my neck in the magic spot that made my knees weak and jolted my pussy dumping another juicy stream seeping from my hot flower. Smooth trick. I'm going for the obvious. I like it. I see when he looks at my big titties and licks his lips.
I asked him if he was trustworthy. It's like he read my how-to book before sitting next to me. I wanted to test his response to my desire. I need to know that he can give me what it is I need most at this moment. I need to silence the wanting and the aching stirring in my center, begging for pleasure and making my clit feel like a man's dick needing to be rubbed and sucked and fucked. I want to see this dick and I want it hard. That's all I can think about. The man is nice and is getting the hint that I am giving off sexual vibes. I whispered in his ear that I had a dream last night that I could not stop thinking about and also informed him that I would need another drink to relax enough to share the details of the dream which I was about to embellish and tease this man so that I can get a glimpse and maybe even get to rub his hard dick, hidden in plain sight, cautiously in public somewhere tucked away in a carefully chosen spot. I'm intentional and want to ensure my pleasure.
He asked to go somewhere more private so that he could hear what he sensed he didn't want to miss. We found a small table tucked away in the corner, in the dark, forgotten, unwanted, the space for our next step had been found. I sat with my back facing to the wall and my view was the bar where I had just been sitting. My new friend sat next to me and took me back to the naughty thought I promised to share. I warned him that what I was about to share would be explicit since there was no other way to describe the dream to which I was referring. I started by confessing that I generally do enjoy the weight and warmth and smooth texture of an aroused dick and that sometimes I think about it so I understood why my dream was centered around that.
I noticed he leaned in closer, he heard exactly what I just said. I noticed his bulge growing. This makes me sigh in relief. First step. Check. I continued to share with him the embellished dream now being relayed close to his ear, feeling the heat of my breath as I revealed the details of the dream which painted a visual of my naked body lying in a dick garden, surrounded by dicks, nice, warm, thick, heavy dicks all around me with me licking them all and sucking and fucking and rubbing as many all over my body in whatever way possible, feeling a tingling sensation in every place the dicks are touching making me unable to handle the intense message being sent to my central nervous system. I shared this dream shyly, with little eye contact, enough to see the effect. Enough to know he was into it.
He has a look that lets me know he is in. He is mystified. The spell has been cast. I look at his dick in an obvious way and bite my bottom lip showing my desire, I stare longer than a moment and imagine the silky liquid likely seeping from its opening. Again, I feel my juices flowing and I know my scent is filling this intimate air space where our bodies are close with electric touch becoming more and more frequent.
