i think of hands that aren't my own. fantasies of how they got there and why they're touching me.
maybe we had snuck away from a dinner or the fete, so hurried that he'd just press me against the door of the first empty room we could find. i'd feel the hard line of his cock pressing between my legs, and i'd know that i did that. that it's because he wanted me. that we were in a ballroom full of people and he could only look at me, think of me.
he'd fall on his knees in front of me, push my gown out of the way, guide one of my legs over his shoulder just to put his mouth on me. that he'd make me come harder than i'd ever have on my own. how he'd lift me up like i was nothing, how his cock would stretch me like nothing else has before. that he'd tease me about being loud as he had me against a door, but i don't think he'd actually want me to be quiet.
no subject
maybe we had snuck away from a dinner or the fete, so hurried that he'd just press me against the door of the first empty room we could find. i'd feel the hard line of his cock pressing between my legs, and i'd know that i did that. that it's because he wanted me. that we were in a ballroom full of people and he could only look at me, think of me.
he'd fall on his knees in front of me, push my gown out of the way, guide one of my legs over his shoulder just to put his mouth on me.
that he'd make me come harder than i'd ever have on my own.
how he'd lift me up like i was nothing, how his cock would stretch me like nothing else has before.
that he'd tease me about being loud as he had me against a door, but i don't think he'd actually want me to be quiet.