I Promise I

I promise I'm not a stalker. Ok, so I've had to wander around Camden for a few days to find out where you live, but I know you'll be pleased when I turn up on your doorstep.

You've got me so distracted...my fingers are itching to touch you. I want to put them in your mouth, and have you bite down on the fingertips. Kiss me so hard its almost like you want to consume me. Kiss down my neck and onto my breasts, suck on my nipples, so I can feel that tingle run down my body and lodge in my groin. Make me undress for you and run your hands over me, whispering to me how beautiful I am.

On the underground I am watching a man eating an apple, his mouth closing on the juicy flesh just like yours did on mine that first night we met. I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall, weak, my pussy throbbing. As I walk along I can feel the slickness between my legs: I'm so ready for this.

I envisage myself dropping down onto my knees and taking your cock in my mouth, twirling my tongue around the head, pushing it back deep into my throat...You're so big, so hard, I can't wait to feel you thrust into me: I know I'll feel it all over, even my fingertips will be buzzing with the feel of you sliding into me.

When I get to your door I ring the bell and you answer, dressed in your usual jeans and t-shirt...And you look at me a little strangely, but I know how bored you are, and I give you that look (God you must know how horny I am, how much I want to push you onto the floor, and straddle you, and slide down onto your cock, making you slick with my juices, up and down, my pussy clenching around you). So you let me in without saying a word.

And you take hold of my hand and lead me up the stairs to your room, where you close the door behind us. And suddenly you are all over me, your hands on my arse, your mouth on my neck, and you're pushing me towards the bed, forcing me down on it. The whole dynamic has changed: I thought I was the predator, but you're stronger than me, and I'm loving the feeling of being this helpless under the weight of you.

Your hand passes over my breast, slides down my stomach and is buried between my legs, reaching for the wet centre of me, sliding up over my clit, circling round and round...with the other hand you grab my jaw, and force me to look into your eyes: and I feel as if I might die with the intensity of pleasure that rushes through me...And I'm looking into your eyes as you stroke me, and I can feel the sweetness build, and oh god you push your finger inside me and I cum, oh ohh ohhhh it feels so much better than all the nights when I've touched myself thinking of you, willing you to envision me in return, lying on my bed, legs spread, one hand pinching a nipple, the other on my clit.

And when you see me cum, you let go of me, and frantically reach for your belt buckle, and I, my eyes fixed on yours, reach down and undo it for you, my fingers unzipping you, pushing the waistband as you lift your hips to help me uncover you. I close my cool hand round your hot, throbbing cock and see your eyes roll back slightly, your mouth opening in a sigh.

I know this isn't love, it isn't even lust really, just some sick fantasy that was wandering the borderlines of reality and accidentally crossed over. And you told me you don't want anything serious (after letting me give you a blowjob) so here it is...casual sex.

You bite me, you pull my hair and we're doing it doggy-style, one hard-gripping hand on my hip, pulling me onto you, pushing you deeper into my hot wet depths that are clenching around you. One hand pulls on my hair, forcing my hair back as you groan out, voice cracking and I can feel you swell inside me, and you let go, clutching me to you as you throb and pulse your soul out into me. And I can hear that clck-clck noise of my wetness slick on me and you, and I roll my hips, sliding myself against you.

Nothing purely good is ever this perfect. I nuzzle at your neck, rest my lips on your warm skin so I can feel your pulse beating. You lie there next to me and finally see me, and realise that as you were berating me for not seeing the real you, you weren't really seeing the real me, either.