“No interruptions this time.” I’m supposed to do work but li..

“No interruptions this time.” 

I’m supposed to do work but like so many times before my mind begins to wonder. It takes me back to that same place.

We met by chance in November. My paper bag split right open on my way back to my stay, and as I’m picking up my groceries that have scattered all over the pavement — that’s when he enters my story. 

He had a soft smile and easy charm. Reserved yet curious, you know? I had no idea then what he would unlock inside me — something that had been dormant for so long. This part of me, dominant, commanding and hungry as fuck... but still new, unpolished, still learning its own power. Confident but also nervous? For whatever reason, this side of me was there from the very first tone of his voice. In that instant moment when I looked up from my groceries and met his gaze with mine. Ready and hungry. Really fucking hungry. 

He brought it out of me that afternoon in London, as he has many times since. Wide awake at the gym the idea of it could compel me to jack one off real quick in the toilets (and it had already). Vast asleeep, I’m dreaming about what his facial expressions would look like when I thrust myself inside him. My thoughts wander especially on nights like this, when I’m alone in a hotel room and supposed to do something I’ve put off all day. Here, I’m an easy target for my wild imagination, and right now he is the muse of my vivid fantasy. I can’t help but send him a text.

“Hey cutie what’s up?”

We haven’t spoken since that day. The last time we were together, it was cut short. A stolen moment, bodies pressed close, heat pooling between us — interrupted just before it could become everything! My thoughts often drift to that night, to what could have been if my phone had stayed silent, if reality hadn't pulled us apart. I imagine how he would gasp in pleasure beneath me, how his body would have yielded to mine, willing and eager, as I took my time exploring, discovering just how far I could push him (push myself?). 

He replies.

He didn’t think he’d hear from me? Does that mean he wanted to? Or did I give the impression I wasn’t interested? He has no idea how he infiltrates my thoughts, haha, and how badly I want more… But soon enough, he fucking will. 

And so, the conversation begins. It’s clear he’s partaking in this dance, but I’m taking the lead. He is sensitive, kind, cheeky, and so beautifully submissive. He pulls out this new untamed side of me so effortlessly.

As the three dots are dancing on my screen when I'm waiting for his reply, I feel something electric inside me. It’s not butterflies, I know now what those feels like. It’s something else. Something more passionate and less jittery. Harder? No that’s not the right word. Well it’s definitely something, and right now it makes me wanna thrust my dick through a fucking brick wall! I think of his hands, the way they would tremble when he's desperate to obey. The way his soft moans would sound in my ear, how easily I could bring him to the edge and keep him there, just to hear him beg…

I start typing. My dick is swelling in my underwear and a soft grin is emerging in my face as I'm typing the message that sums up everything.