The minutes were creeping by in my interminable meeting. Why do these meetings always have to go on and on? Why do people feel the need to hear themselves talk for so long?
My phone buzzed. "Come to me. I need your mouth." That's all it said. That's all it needed to say to get my heart racing. God. I needed you.
The minutes were agony. I needed this meeting to be over. I needed to be out of the office and on my way to you. I needed you in my mouth so bad I could barely breathe.
After an eternity of bloviating, the meeting finally, finally ended. I nearly sprinted out of the office. "OMW," I texted you. "I forgot that I have a doctor's appointment across town that I'm late for" I shouted to my assistant as I tore out the door.
The conundrum - public transportation or uber? The T would probably be faster at this hour, but it is so unreliable, and I think I might have a heart attack if there are delays. I bite the bullet, though, and on the subway I go.
I'm standing in a fairly crowded train, my body on fire. I look down at my phone again. "Come to me. I need your mouth." It's like a lightning bolt between my legs. Every time the train jolts or jerks I feel like my insides are being ripped apart. I need you inside me so much right now. Any part of you. Inside any part of me. As long as it's really soon.
Luckily, there are no incidents on the train and it's not long before I'm at your office building. "I'm downstairs," I text you. I look at your text again. "Come to me. I need your mouth." Oof.