"You're my slut now." I heard those words over and over in my head every day. They made me smile. They made me wet. The memory of your lips near my ear and your breath as you whispered the words to me kept me up at night.
The sexy texts and pictures became less and less. Once you have the real thing, that's all you want; nothing else is good enough.
I wake up to see your name on my phone and my heart pounds. You know I love waking up to this, and I've been missing it like crazy. It's a picture of your glorious cock and it says "we need to see you." I know we can't do a motel again. Too many times and we could get caught, plus it's too expensive.
I send you back a quick "I'm going for a run...probably a long one".
I always fantasized about being fucked in the middle of one of my runs and of course, I told you about that fantasy and you're well aware of my running schedule and usual routes. "A long one" means down your road. I love to run past your house just for the thrill of it. See your car in the driveway, imagine you fucking your wife and thinking of me. I imagine you looking out the window and seeing me run by and getting hard, thinking about pulling me into the bushes.
I pull my hair back and take off. I want to get there fast but I don't want to be a hot sweaty mess. Not yet anyway. I don't hear any notifications on my phone so I don't even know if you got the message, or maybe you don't care. I start to question whether this is a good idea when a car cuts me off and pulls right in front of me and I almost run into it. The passenger door opens and you yell "get in, now." You pull down an abandoned side street and pull your dick out of your pants and grab my head by the hair. "Suck it, slut. I need to cum down your throat."