He was delicious.
I couldn’t stop fantasising about him; his tanned skin, his dark, flashing eyes and that mouth.
Oh… God… that mouth.
I wanted his lips on every part of my body. He had awoken something in me that I hadn’t felt for so long and that I’d forgotten even existed. Now that I remembered what it was, there was no way I could go back.
I wanted him, plain and simple.
I’d seen the way he looked at me; he wanted me too.
I imagined his penis the way I imagined a lollipop. It was something to savour. Something to suck, slowly, so as to enjoy the flavour. I didn’t want to stop; I wanted to reduce him to tears. I wanted him to beg me to take him.
I imagined kneeling in front of him, ready to unwrap it, much the same as a candy wrapper.
I wanted to take him in my mouth and wrap my lips around his shaft.
I wanted to make him explode.
And I would.
But first, he needed to know how much I was ready to sacrifice.